


Law School Redux (Or How Rafael Barba Learned to Shut Up and Let Someone Else Choose the Restaurant)

by blown_transistor



Series: Rafael, Jessica, Sonny, and Miranda Go Back to School [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:51:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 53,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5001889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blown_transistor/pseuds/blown_transistor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After hearing two of her friends complain about being single in the span of a week, Olivia Benson gets an idea and makes a bet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“He’s fucking _married_?” the younger of the two brunettes squeaked before the other one clapped a hand over her friend’s mouth.

“Noah’s asleep.”

She scowled when the hand left her face. “You go to AshleyMadison for that, not Match.com.”

“I know, Jess,” Olivia Benson sympathized, putting a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

Blowing a raspberry, she grabbed her wine glass and took a large swig. “Why is it so hard to meet a guy who isn’t a piece of shit in a city with this many people in it? I suck at math, but I think it should be statistically _possible_.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Liv glared at her drinking companion.

“Sorry.” Jessica Bell set her glass back on the coffee table and pulled another bottle of wine from her large bag. “For the background check.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I do. I knew there was something fishy about him at dinner last week. You just found it for me.” She rubbed her temples and covered her face with her hand.

* * *

 

 

Their conversation fell into a lull. Olivia pressed a finger against the handle of the coffee cup in front of her and pushed it so the cup rotated in a full circle on the saucer. “So how’s Natalie?”

“Over,” Barba replied. “It shouldn’t be this hard to find a woman that isn’t crazy in this city.”

A light turned on in her head. “You’re coming to my place Wednesday afternoon for drinks for the adoption right?”

“I’ve cleared my calendar. Why?”

She grinned. “You’re the second person to complain to me about the inability to find a sane other half _this week_.”

“Liv…” he protested, hooking his finger into the handle of the cup.

“She’s an English teacher, and that’s all you get for now. I don’t want you running her name through any databases before you meet her.”

“So there’s something there.”

“I wouldn’t let her babysit Noah from time to time if there was,” she reassured him. “You’ll love her, I promise.”

“Blind dates never work out for me.”

“Let’s make it interesting. A hundred dollars and a bottle of champagne?”

“If I see her again?” He inhaled sharply. “That’s a bit steep.”

“If you ask her to marry you.”

He coughed in an attempt to clear the coffee that’d gone down his windpipe. “The champagne I like is over a hundred dollars a bottle,” the assistant district attorney warned.

“Me too.”


	2. Chapter One

_Had it been another day_  
I might have looked the other way  
And I’d have never been aware  
But as it is, I’ll dream of her  
_Tonight…_

****

**Wednesday May 20, 2015**

The staccato knock at Olivia Benson’s door snapped the sergeant’s focus from the emotional situation with her former partner in the kitchen. “It’s open,” she called, wiping her eyes and making her way toward the door.

“Christ, Liv, I’m so sorry. Graduation was over on time, but about ten parents cornered me. I came as quickly as I could,” the out-of-breath brunette explained, throwing her arm around her friend’s neck as the other one held a gift bag for Noah and a bottle of wine for the new official mother.

“Don’t worry about it, Jess. We’ve just been talking.” She took the gifts from the late arrival with a smile. “Wine?”

“What are you having?”

“Merlot.”

“Sounds great!” Jessica Bell looped her arm through Olivia’s and nudged her toward the kitchen. “So which one is he, my non-married mystery date?” she whispered.

The smile returned to Olivia’s face, and she began to pour a glass of wine. “On the sofa with the dark hair. Lemme introduce you to everyone, though. Don’t go pounce on him.” She turned to Nick, who had resumed leaning on his crutches against the counter. “Nick, you remember my neighbor Jessica?”

“Yeah! How are you?” he extended his hand to shake hers.

“I’m well, just a little out of breath. You look a bit worse for the wear, though.”

“Long story…”

“No worries. I’ve heard it all from Liv.”

Reaching into the fridge, Olivia pulled out two bottles of champagne. “If everyone’ll come get a glass, I’d like to have a toast.” She opened both bottles and handed them to Fin. “Can you pour?”

“Sure, Liv.”

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Jessica Bell, my upstairs neighbor and occasional emergency babysitter. Jess, I’d like to introduce you to Detectives Carisi and Rollins. Lucy and Detectives Amaro and Tutuola you already know.” She paused strategically, putting a reassuring hand on her friend’s back. “And this is our A.D.A., Rafael Barba.”

Taking the message, she gave an uncharacteristically shy wave to the new and old faces…which stopped the second her dark eyes met those of the last name on the list. _Holy shit. When Liv said he had nice eyes, she wasn’t kidding._ “Good afternoon, all. It’s nice to finally put faces to all of Liv’s stories.”

Rafael Barba was an observant man. He could usually tell when defendants were lying on the stand. Which is how he knew the woman who came to stand between himself and Benson in the living room for the toast was the woman she’d intended on him meeting. The sudden, lingering glance in his direction was all he needed to know.

“To family!”

“To family!” the rest of the guests echoed before someone said “cheers”.

Jessica’s gaze met that of the A.D.A yet again. She clinked her glass against his and Olivia’s before taking a drink.

As the group began to disperse after the toast, he caught the very interested brunette by the elbow. “Please tell me you teach English.” He had to stop his eyes from rolling back in his head when he caught a whiff of her spicy, floral perfume. “I know what every other woman in this room does for a living.”

She deposited her empty champagne flute on the coffee table and picked up her wine glass. “I do. And you must be Liv’s ‘work friend’, _A.D.A._ Barba. I do read the papers, especially when my neighbor is amongst the front page story every so often.”

“Please call me Rafael at least,” he offered, taking note of the faint trace of a Southern accent.

She looked down at two of her friend’s other detectives as they played with Noah. “Since you know I teach English, Liv must’ve told you about me.”

“She wouldn’t tell me much, actually. Didn’t want me Googling you in my non-existent spare time.” Releasing her elbow, he held up his hand as if he were being sworn in. “All I know is that you teach English.”

“And all she would tell me is that she knew you from work. And that between your eyes and your suit collection, it’d take you all of about six words to get me to agree to dinner,” Jess finished boldly, smiling when he coughed audibly.

Rafael looked, really _looked_ , at the woman Olivia had set him up with once he regained his breath. She couldn’t be any taller than five foot four, which was a good thing since he wasn’t exactly Shaquille O’Neal. Her long, brown hair was twisted into a knot at the crown of her head, and her makeup looked straight out of something he’d seen in a magazine. She sported a strapless black dress, and her shoulders were hidden by a crocheted bolero-style sweater. When she shifted her weight to her other leg, he noticed that she wore a pair of flat black sandals. The second he touched her arm after the toast, he could feel moderately toned muscles. She carried herself well and was pleasing on the eyes, everything he said he wanted. But one glaring thing stood out to him. She had to be ten years younger than he was. While most men wouldn’t mind bagging the younger woman, he wasn’t so sure. He drank the last of his scotch and dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a knuckle. “Refill?” he inquired, pointing to her wine glass that was still two-thirds full.

“I’m fine for now, but thank you.” As he excused himself and walked back to the kitchen, she wanted to turn tail and run. _“Be yourself”. Sure, Liv. I just_ was _my upfront self, and he’s excusing himself from the conversation. I’m going to die alone._

When the well-dressed A.D.A. got to the kitchen, he put a hand on the Sergeant’s shoulder gently. “She has got to be ten years younger than me, Liv,” he said as softly as he could. “Also, my ‘suit collection’ and ‘nice eyes’?”

She took his glass and quickly refilled it. “You’re forty, not dead. Just because you’re not my type doesn’t mean that I can’t think you have nice eyes.” Handing him back the refilled rocks glass, she looked down at him sternly. “I wouldn’t have introduced the two of you if I didn’t think you could be great together.” When he scoffed, she raised an eyebrow. “I’m serious. Hang around here for a little bit, then take her to the bistro two doors down. Remember, if you put a ring on her finger, you owe me a hundred dollars and a bottle of champagne.”

“I don’t think I’ll be paying out on that, but whatever you say.” He turned and made to leave the kitchen.

“Barba? For the record,” she continued with a knowing grin when he turned back around towards her “she’s only nine years younger than you.”

“Sorry. Got caught up,” he half-lied, coming to stand next to the woman Benson was convinced would earn her some cash and a nice bottle of Moët. “So how do you know Olivia?”

Running a freshly manicured thumbnail around the side of her glass, she didn’t know whether to feel patronized by the fact or excited that he’d come back. “She was moving in two years ago,” Jess answered cautiously. “We started talking, and now here we are.”

Her temperament had definitely cooled in the time that he was in the kitchen, but he couldn’t exactly blame her. His exit wasn’t as gentlemanly as he would have wanted. “Listen, I just learned of a bistro down the block. Maybe we should go grab an early dinner once we’ve finished our drinks.”

She hummed her reply and went back to her wine. After a few more minutes of mindless chatter with various members of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit and finishing her drink, she placed her glass and champagne flute into the sink and began her goodbyes. “Thank you for having me, Liv. And congratulations again, to you and Noah.” The two friends hugged briefly and broke apart. “Since school’s out, he’s welcome to come up and play anytime.” She only half-heard the reply…because Mister Mystery Date was also making his excuses (paperwork, of course) right behind her. Jess was shocked when he opened the door and ushered her out ahead of him. _Mister Congeniality_.

Shutting the door behind them, he offered his arm…only to be shocked when she didn’t take it. Spinning on his heel, he saw that she was heading for the staircase at the opposite end of the hallway from the elevator. “I thought we were getting dinner.”

“Count me out, Counselor. I know that look on your face. This is a pity dinner. And I don’t need pity. I get enough pity from my cat, booze, and my vibrator.” She held up her hand and waved. “It was nice to meet you.”

Ordinarily, the confidant prosecutor would have simply walked away. But Olivia Benson’s words were stuck in his head. _I wouldn’t have introduced the two of you if I didn’t think you could be great together._ “Jessica, wait.” Rafael let out a sigh of relief when she turned back toward him. “That look wasn’t for the reason you think. I’d be honored if you’d have dinner with me.”

“Liv insisted, didn’t she?”

“The look she gave me is usually reserved for people on the wrong side of the one-way glass, yes. That being said, I trust her. And I don’t trust a lot of people.” He held out his hand toward her. “Please?”

After tossing her head back and forth a few times as she considered his offer, she realized she didn’t have anything to lose. She finally closed the distance between them and took his hand. “So,” she began as she pushed the down arrow on the elevator. “When you’re not putting rapists in jail, what do you do in your free time?”

Rafael let out a small grunt once the elevator doors closed in front of them. “What free time?”

“I know that feeling. That’s me most of the year. I’m sure some of the prep work for a trial is about as interesting as reading fifty essays on Hamlet written by mostly disinterested high school seniors in a weekend.” Jess nodded her thanks when, yet again, her date for the evening held the front door of the apartment building open for her. Stepping out into the warm afternoon air, she slid her hand into his again.

“I’m sorry to say that I would have been one of your more disinterested students in that department. It’s beautiful to hear aloud or see performed, but I hated being forced to read it,” he admitted as they walked down the sidewalk to the bistro Olivia mentioned.

Once they were seated and had water in front of them, he watched as her pale pink lipstick left a mark on the glass in front of her. “I heard you mention graduation being today to Olivia earlier. Are you done for the summer?”

“Yes and no. I have a few in-service days here and there and lesson plans to make in my own time. Normally, I’d basically do fuck all for most of the month of June and get everything ready in July and August.” A wide grin blossomed across her face. “But this year, I’m going to be spending considerably more time on lesson plans.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Her smile was infectious, he decided when he couldn’t help but do the same.

“I’ve been teaching at the same private high school ever since I got my masters seven years ago. That whole time, I’ve been pitching the idea for an elective class completely devoted to Shakespeare.” Her excited explanation was interrupted by the waiter. “They finally said yes because seventeen kids want to take it,” she continued once they’d ordered. “I’m guessing that the sudden interest is due to all the recent productions and films with the ‘it’ actors that have happened in recent years. But I’ll take what I can get.”

“I am so far behind on pop culture references. I probably wouldn’t know who the actors were if you mentioned them.”

“If I don’t scare you away, you should come over to my place sometime. We can get you caught up. My walls are mostly shelves for my books, music, and movies.”

“I think I’d like that.” Good to know he still had a shot at this. “So where are you from?”

“Everywhere. I was an Air Force kid, so we moved around. I was born when my dad was stationed in San Antonio, but I’ve lived in Texas, Colorado, and New Jersey. He retired earlier this year, and he and my mom still live around Fort Dix. You?”

“The Bronx, Jerome Avenue. Lived there pretty much all my life. Moved to Boston for law school, and then to Brooklyn when I got on with the D.A.’s office. I transferred to Manhattan three years ago.”

The awkward “getting to know you” small talk slowed when their food arrived, but for the moment, Jessica didn’t care. She’d had a muffin and a cup of coffee before the graduation ceremony that morning and then some finger food at Olivia’s. None of which helped the glass of merlot and the glass of champagne on her stomach. She dug into her overpriced club sandwich, trying to eat as neatly as possible so as not to appear like she was starving.

Once she got enough of the sandwich down to soak up the alcohol, she looked back up at her arranged date. He was definitely handsome and well dressed with a good job, exactly what she told Liv she was looking for. He sat across from her neatly and deliberately cutting his steak with a pensive look on his face. She was fairly certain that she had a similar look on her face as she sat silently, trying to determine just why this guy needed Olivia to find him a date. Still, it’d be nice if he said _something_. She opened her mouth to ask another one of those “getting to know you” questions, but shut it without a word. _Fuck it._ “I got absolutely trashed after a mandatory career seminar when I first came to Columbia and paged through an LSAT prep book. Y’know, because if Reese Witherspoon can do it in _Legally Blonde_ , so can I. I declared myself an English major with a minor in education the next day.”

Rafael put his fork down and looked across the small table at her. “Not for you, huh?”

“I took a mandatory year of Latin in middle school. I passed by the skin of my teeth. My final note from my teacher, I’ll never forget this as long as I live, read ‘Put the words in the right order you must. Yoda you are not’.” She gave herself an imaginary pat on the back when the lines around his eyes crinkled as he genuinely smiled for the first time in the ninety minutes they’d known each other. “She was mean, so I partially did it out of spite. I knew it drove her nuts.”

“Oh I bet you were just hell on wheels as a teenager,” he laughed.

“In those precious moments where I wasn’t cleaning my glasses, watching sci-fi shows, studying, or working my first job? Sure. _The X-Files_ and _Star Trek_ took up all of my free time.”

Propping his elbow up on the table, he made a fist and rested his chin on top of it. “Kirk or Picard?”

Jess mimicked his pose. “Picard, of course.” she answered instantaneously. “Kirk is literally the reason the Enterprise crew can’t have nice things.”

“I think Olivia might be onto something here.”

With the ice broken, the pair fell into easy conversation. Their adult, professional exteriors hid many similarities beyond mutual admiration for Jean-Luc Picard. They both enjoyed Tarantino films, working and relaxing to classical music, and expensive alcohol. She’d only ever dabbled in record collecting, whereas he had an entire library on vinyl. Neither of them read as much for pleasure as they’d like anymore…

She tried to protest when he picked up the check, only to have her pout turn into a snort of laughter when he looked her dead in the eye and deadpanned “Objection overruled”. Feeling much better about letting Liv set her up with the most attractive attorney she’d ever seen (apart from Robert Downey, Junior playing one in _The Judge_ the previous year), she accepted his offer to walk her back home.

“Well now that we’ve had food to absorb the alcohol from the party, want to come up for a drink?” she inquired, her inherent Southern hospitality taking over when they stopped at the door to her building. “It is only 7:30.”

“Rain check? I wasn’t lying to Olivia when I said I had paperwork to do for a case.” He’d only met her earlier in the afternoon, but something about her made him feel guilty for having to disappoint her. “If you’d be willing to give me your number, I’d love to have dinner again. I’ll call you.”

“Only if you’re okay with me having your number, too. I’m not a crazy person, I swear. I’m just one of those people that doesn’t answer their phone if they don’t know who it is.” When he cocked an eyebrow, she decided to elaborate. “I had to change my number a few years ago because of…an incident.”

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he made a few movements with his finger across the screen and handed it to her. “Program it in and call yourself.”

Jessica quickly programmed her number into the “new contact” form he’d brought up, saved it, and dialed her phone from his. Once she heard the ringing from the earpiece of his phone, she reached into her purse and dug out hers…but not before the chorus of No Doubt’s “Spiderwebs” began pouring from the speaker.

“Nice,” Rafael commented with a smirk. “But wouldn’t that be more appropriate on your outgoing voicemail message?”

“Coming from the man who is apparently a generation behind in pop culture?”

“Certain things hold my attention, attractive women being one of them.” He stepped closer to her so that his hips almost touched hers. With the pad of his right index finger, he pushed up on the bottom of her jaw in order to tilt her face into a more favorable position before pressing his lips to hers.

She shivered when she returned the kiss. The sensation reminded her instantly of a Shakespeare quote, but in the interest of wanting to see the well-dressed prosecutor currently attached to her lips again, she decided to keep that to herself. “You’d _better_ call if you’re going to kiss me like that,” she breathed. “I was ready to quote The Bard.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll tell you when you see me again,” she teased, turning to grip the handle of the door. “Goodnight, Counselor. Have fun with your paperwork.”

He squeezed her hand that he still held gently. “Goodnight, Miss Bell.” Once she was inside her building and he was inside a cab, he unlocked the screen on his phone and grinned. She’d saved her phone number as “Jess Bell”, but put “NCC-1701D” in the line normally reserved for the name of one’s company.

* * *

 

Two hours later, Jessica made her way back to her kitchen for a refill on her wine. She was going to have to buy Olivia something nice…and crochet something cute for Noah. Even if the well-dressed prosecutor never called her, she’d at least have something new for her spank bank for later. She pressed her earbuds even deeper into her ears as shuffle brought her the title track from The Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour album. Just as she began to move her arms to dance to the music, her phone chimed in her pocket. She set her wine down long enough to extract the phone from her sweatpants.

_I can’t concentrate on this paperwork because I can’t get my mind off which Shakespeare quote me kissing you could have brought to mind._

“I said I’d tell you when I see you again. It’s from a play recently retooled by one of the actors you don’t recognize in the past few years.”

_Google doesn’t help with that at all. I mean, you could be quoting Coriolanus. And Wikipedia tells me that one doesn’t end well._

She sniggered and began to type the first bit of the aforementioned play that came to mind. “You might have been enough the man you are With striving less to be so: lesser had been The thwarting of your dispositions if You had not show’d them how you were dispos’d, Ere they lack’d power to cross you.”

_I’m not sure how to take that._

“I’m kidding. It is most assuredly not Coriolanus. The bit I was actually thinking of is from King Henry the Fifth.”

_Put me out of my misery or I’ll never get this done._

“This is done to help the criminal justice system."

_I’m sure you’ll get a Christmas card from Jack McCoy and the governor._

“You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate: there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them, than the tongues of the French council…”

_Oh god._

“Go work, Counselor. I’ve done my bit.”

_I’d rather listen to you read Shakespeare._

“Next time, handsome.” 

* * *

 

Jessica found herself on the elliptical in the basement of her building on Friday night, setting a bruising pace to the tune of the song currently playing from her workout playlist. She almost fell off the machine when she suddenly caught sight of her date from Wednesday standing in the entrance to the sparse workout room. She managed to catch herself and pull back on one of the hand holds to stop the machine before ripping out her earbuds. “How long have you been standing there? More importantly, how did you know I was down here and…” She rolled her eyes. “Olivia.” Stepping off the machine, she wiped her forehead with the towel slung over her shoulder.

“I had to drop off some old trial transcripts for a case she’s working, and she mentioned you were down here,” he explained after clearing his throat. “Thought I’d save myself a phone call and see what you were doing tomorrow night.”

“Absolutely nothing,” she panted, putting her hands on her thighs and bending over to try to catch her breath. “What did you have in mind?”

He crossed the room, grabbed her water bottle from the machine, and handed it to her. “Assuming you don’t kill yourself in the meantime, I was thinking dinner.” Stepping back a bit, he took a good look at the parts she’d covered up at their first meeting: breasts, the bit of extra weight around her middle (presumably the reason for her workout), and legs. Another item of note was her apparent lack of makeup. Overall, he definitely wouldn’t mind waking up in the morning next to her.

Straightening up, she took a large gulp from her water. “I can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song quoted at the beginning of this chapter is "I've Just Seen a Face" by The Beatles.
> 
> Same notes as last time! Enjoy!


	3. Chapter Two

_And you walk right in, blowing through the doors_

_Like a force of nature, a force of nature_

_I can’t look up ‘cause my head’s a mess_

_But you’re beautiful in the way you dress_

_I’m lost for words, and I’m powerless…_

 

Rafael Barba sat at the table in the posh restaurant and rubbed at the inside corner of his eye tiredly. Normally he was the late one because of work. This time, his date was late by fifteen minutes. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder, settling down when the body attached to the hand revealed itself to be Jessica.

“I am _so_ sorry, Rafael,” she apologized, sliding into the chair across from him. Arranging the knee length skirt of her navy dress, she sighed. “My mom called me just as I was about to walk out the door and decided to have a come apart.”

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

“Well in her mind it is.”

“Of course,” he empathized, taking a sip of his scotch.

“My youngest brother, who is twenty-three by the way, is at Myrtle Beach with his girlfriend. He proposed last night. Took her out on the beach and the whole nine yards. Naturally, my mom calls me crying about her last baby leaving her.” She paused her story long enough to order a pinot grigio and a glass of water. “I kept trying to subtly hint that I needed to let her go, but she kept on talking.”

“I think all mothers do that. At least yours calls. Mine just shows up at my apartment.”

Jessica looked on in almost abject horror. “There’s a reason I won’t give my parents a key to my apartment. My mom would rearrange my furniture and stage an intervention over the amount of wine I’ve got stashed. Has yours shown up when you’ve had someone over?”

“Not yet.” Putting down his drink, he knocked on the wooden table twice. His eyes were drawn away from her dark eyes and to her deep red nails when she curled her fingers around the stem of her wine glass. When she lifted the glass to her lips, he noticed that her lipstick and nail polish were an almost identical shade. She was either high maintenance or meticulous. He hadn’t quite made up his mind.

“God, I haven’t been in this place in years,” she commented softly as she looked around the beautifully decorated (and expensive) old Italian restaurant. “Not since I quit working here.”

“Really?” Barba asked in disbelief. He hadn’t pegged her as a waitress.

“After I got most of my gen ed classes out of the way at a community college not far from where my parents live, I transferred to Columbia. My parents helped when they could, and scholarships and student loans only go so far.”

Sitting almost dumbfounded in his chair, he rested his forearms on the table and leaned in closer.

“I spent many a slow night perched at the corner of the bar closest to the kitchen nose deep in a textbook. I worked at several different bars and restaurants around the city in my time. I was taking a full course load and working almost sixty hours a week. I couldn’t work as much during my student teaching, but I still had to eat, so I taught during the week and bartended on the weekends.” She stopped, realizing she was monopolizing the conversation with her boring story about her former job. “I’m sorry. You don’t want to hear about my bartending days.”

“I’m intrigued, actually. I…I had no idea.”

“That I, like millions of broke-ass college students and out-of-work actors, took to restaurant work to pay rent?” When he opened his mouth and no words came out, she decided to continue. “The military will feed, clothe, and house you. When it comes to raising and putting four kids through college, they’re not so helpful. They certainly don’t help with the teasing, especially when you’re perpetually the new kid in school every time your dad gets transferred.”

Reaching around the salt and pepper shakers and candle in the middle of the table, he took one of her hands in his. “I get it. I do.” Even if he never had to pay up on the bet with Olivia, he was going to have to thank her still. Before he could say anything further, the waiter arrived to take their order. “City College,” he began once the waiter was out of earshot. “I got a scholarship to Harvard Law. I lost count of how many nights I spent in the library after my first semester. Some days, I forgot to eat. I never felt at home, the scholarship kid from The Bronx.”

She nodded in agreement, making note of the orange patterned tie tucked into his vest. “Neither did the Air Force brat from nowhere in particular.” Leaning back in her chair, she looked up at the ornate ceiling wistfully. “You know, I never wore makeup before I started at Columbia. The fact that my dad wouldn’t let me is mostly irrelevant. I-I stuck out worse than a sore thumb. My first roommate, the real-life personification of Elle Woods, took the opportunity to make me her personal Barbie doll. She helped me get my job here. When I got my first paycheck, she took me to Sephora. Sephora took my entire first paycheck, and Macy’s took my next three.” She paused to laugh and swept a stray bit of hair behind her ear. “Five years later, I started teaching in a school where people pay forty-five grand a year for their kids to go to high school. People assumed I was one of them because of the way I looked. And I’m guessing you had a similar discovery when people assumed you were ‘one of the boys’ when you showed up in a three piece suit.”

“Something like that, yes.”

Jessica lifted her wine glass. “To fooling them all.”

Barba lifted his almost empty glass of scotch. “Cheers.”

 

An hour and a half later, Rafael signed the credit card slip and looked across the table at his date. Olivia was a goddamned genius. She managed to find someone who not only fit his physical criteria, but understood him.

Jessica lifted her wine glass to her lips once more, finishing off her third glass of the delicious white wine. “Thank you for dinner, Rafael.” Letting out a quiet but shaking breath, she nervously put her hand on top of his.

“Think nothing of it.” He tilted his hand up slightly, causing his fingers to intertwine with hers. “I had wonderful food, and even better company.”

She let out a breathless laugh. “Oh ho, flattery will get you almost anywhere.”

“Does it get me more Shakespeare?” he asked, propping his head up with an index finger to his temple. “After all, I didn’t _hear_ the other one.”

She playfully chewed the inside of her cheek and tossed her head back and forth a few times. “To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?” she began, setting her glass back on the table with a grin. “Crystal is muddy. O! how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow; This pure congealed white, high Tarus’ snow, Fann’d with the eastern wind, turns to a crow When thou hold’st up thy hand. O! let me kiss That princess of pure white, this seal of bliss.”

If only his high school English teacher could see him now, sitting in a restaurant in Midtown Manhattan completely mesmerized by a woman unashamedly trying (and succeeding) to seduce him with Shakespeare. “So do you just have his collected works memorized?”

“Not all of it, no. Just enough to be witty at parties and to get second dates with A.D.A.’s in three piece suits.”

When she stood up, he followed suit. He offered his arm and led her out of the restaurant. “How do you feel about lunch?” he inquired once they were outside.

“When I don’t have to get up and teach, it’s my first meal of the day.”

Dropping his hands to her waist, he dipped his head and gave her a quick kiss. “There’s a cafe two blocks from my office…”

“Just give me a date and time.”

“Even if it’s short notice, like a lunch court recess?”

“You’d be shocked at how fast I can go from pajamas to this,” she retorted, motioning from her face down to her dress. “I do need fifteen minutes to hoof it from my apartment to Hogan Place.”

“I’ll call you.”

Jess hooked a finger around his tie and pulled him back down for a final kiss. “Please do. Goodnight, Rafael.”

He smiled when she turned around in his arms to hail a taxi. He stayed with his arms around her until a yellow cab pulled up next to the curb.

 

* * *

**Tuesday May 26, 2015**

 

Rising from her chair when she saw Rafael entering the cafe, Jess smoothed down her khaki pencil skirt and light pink button down. She sucked the corner of her lower lip between her teeth and smiled. “Hi handsome,” she whispered. She took his free hand and squeezed it when he gave her a polite kiss on the cheek.

“You didn’t have to dress up, you know,” he reminded gently, taking in the combination of the shirt tucked into her skirt and black stilettos.

“And let you be the only well-dressed one?” She cocked an eyebrow and sat back down. “Besides, I’m not exactly ready for you to see me in sweatpants yet.”

“Because I’m sure you look horrible in them,” he sassed. Rafael slid off his grey suit coat and rolled up the sleeves of his blue and white checkered shirt. “Have you ordered yet?”

“Just the water. Thought I’d be polite and wait.”

“Oh, I know what I want. Order away.” When the waiter came back around, he ordered his usual meal and a large cup of coffee before motioning to Jess.

“Any particular reason you wanted to see me today?” she asked after ordering a salad and a cup of Earl Grey tea.

“Break from the monotony? Not wanting to wait until this weekend? Purely selfish reasons.”

“You were smiling when you came in,” she observed. “Good day?”

“Marginal at best, but seeing you just made it better.” He grinned, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“I’m flattered, Counselor.” She nodded her thanks to the waiter when he dropped off the two hot drinks.

“Good.”

After a moment of pleasant silence, Jess removed the teabag from her mug and set it on the saucer. “How do you feel about bowling?” she questioned.

“Bowling?” Rafael cocked an eyebrow. “Random, but I’ll bite. I’m not very good at it, why?”

“I-I had an in-service day yesterday, and one of the art teachers told me she and some of the other teachers were forming a bowling team in a league over in Williamsburg. Asked if I wanted to join.” She emptied a sugar packet into the tea and stirred it with the wrapper. “I’m not very good at saying no…”

“So you’re now on a bowling team in Brooklyn with a bunch of teachers,” he finished, trying to hide his amusement.

“From Tribeca Academy, yes.”

He set his coffee back down on the table. “The measles school?”

“I still keep an industrial sized jug of hand sanitizer and multiple cans of Lysol behind my desk almost four months later.” She shuddered. “I’m just glad my parents weren’t damn hippies.”

“That mom is still in jail.”

“I know. I…” She picked up her roll of silverware once their meals were sat in front of them, only to put it back down again. “My heart broke for Liv and Noah. She barely slept, and when she did, it was only because someone was at the hospital with her. I wanted to get a get a vial of MMR vaccine and just stick syringes in all my seats, but she reminded me that they don’t have wine in jail.”

He chuckled. “No they don’t.”

“But anyway, I’m now on a bowling team that starts league play in a month. I haven’t bowled in almost a decade.” She unwrapped her silverware after shyly tucking a stray bit of fringe behind her ear. “Interested in being a shitty bowler with me sometime? I’d like to be able to knock at least one pin down before I start.”

What he wanted to say would have let her down gently. He wanted to suggest anything but bowling. But that wasn’t what came out. “Sure.”

“Now here’s hoping the team shirts look like the one from _The Big Lebowski_.” Jess smiled. “This is not ‘Nam. This is bowling. There are rules.”

He shook his head with a smirk.

The conversation faded away as the pair tucked into lunch. When another man in a suit sat down at the booth across from them, she turned her head at the sound of the man opening a newspaper.

“Oh god, what is that blowhard doing now?” Jess asked, turning back to her meal.

When Rafael looked up and followed her gaze over to the paper, he rolled his eyes at the picture of Donald Trump on the cover. “Who knows?”

“Whatever it is, he’s setting himself up for a presidential run. _The Simpsons_ called it years ago. It’s going to devolve into a shit show, and I’m going to have to keep my socialist mouth shut anytime I’m in a five block radius of the school.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Military family and you’re…”

“The one who’s been threatened with duct tape over the mouth at Thanksgiving dinner? Yeah.”

“Oh god.”

“I’ve since learned to keep my mouth shut. But this fool?” She motioned toward the newspaper. “I was in the same room with him once, a fundraiser. I came as someone’s plus one. Blessedly, my brother Duane’s wife went into labor in the middle of the event. I was worried I would catch orange from him. I’m half Irish. I look really strange when tan.”

“I don’t understand how someone like that could hope to ever be president.”

“He’s a racist, sexist asshole that talks more like a schoolyard bully than an elected official. That’s not the person you want as ‘the leader of the free world’. N-Not only has he said that as a woman, I shouldn’t have disposable income of my own, but his entire immigration policy is barbarous. As a country built on the backs of immigrants, both paid and unpaid, y’know the place with ‘give me your tired, your hungry, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free’? The system has its faults, but I…” She trailed off when she realized he was staring at her. “Sorry. Like I said, I have to watch my mouth.”

Her mini-rant had taken him aback, but he found himself glad that she’d gone off. With Olivia being as confident as she was that she’d introduced him to his future wife, he was reasonably sure she wouldn’t have set him up with someone that was his political opposite… Reasonably sure. He’d never really discussed politics with her. Discussing politics with someone is a tough situation to bring up in conversation… So for once, he could safely offer a silent “thanks, Trump”. “It…It’s fine, really. Honesty’s good.” He put his silverware and napkin on top of his empty plate. “Both of my parents were first generation Americans. Their parents fled Cuba in the late-Fifties because of Castro.”

She dropped the last forkful of her salad back down onto the plate. “Oh…Oh my god.”

He smiled. “So I’m not a fan of his either.”

Jessica laughed, letting out her previously pent up nervousness. “That’s a relief.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song quoted at the beginning of this chapter is "Glitterball" by Sigma (featuring Ella Henderson). Also mentioned is Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream". 
> 
> I've never assigned dates (other than birthdays) in a story before, but with the way SVU is done combined with the fact that I'm slotting this story into the events of the currently airing season, I'm going to break with my tradition so that y'all can see where the events come. No spoilers for season 17 in this chapter.


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I've kept y'all waiting long enough. Have some Barba smut. 
> 
> I will say that from this point on, there will be spoilers for the current season (17) of the show. There's a minor spoiler in this chapter, but it will only progress from there.
> 
> Also, the song for this chapter (if you haven't noticed, I like mood music), is Donovon's "Catch the Wind".

 

 

 

_When rain has hung the leaves with tears_

_I want you near to kill my fears_

_To help me to leave all my blues behind_

_For standin’ in your heart_

_Is where I want to be and long to be…_

**Friday June 5, 2015**

 

“Drink?” Jess inquired, toeing off her shoes once they were in her apartment after dinner. “I’ve uh… I’ve got a few beers, enough wine to sedate an elephant, and some vodka leftover from making Jell-O shots at New Year’s.”

“What kind of wine?” He shrugged off his suit coat, vest, and tie, laying them across the back of the blue rocking chair in her living room. Glancing around the living room and kitchen layout identical to Olivia’s, he couldn’t help but notice the clear difference in each woman’s definitions of art and décor. Olivia’s clean and crisp (what wasn’t covered in baby toys) versus Jessica’s…hodgepodge. She wasn’t kidding about her DVD and book collection last week, either.

“Is cabernet okay with you?”

“Sure.”

Three floor to ceiling bookcases lined the external wall of the apartment, each filled to capacity with books stuck haphazardly on top of rows of other books. The books on the shelves were as varied as their owner seemed to be – Shakespeare, Dostoyevsky, books _about_ Shakespeare the man,  Harry Potter, books about Shakespeare’s works, Anne Rice novels, various other biographical and autobiographical tomes, classic novels, novels he’d never heard of, high school yearbooks…

Her DVD collection took up a specialized media cabinet far taller than her television stand. It’d been meticulously sorted into alphabetical order, until she’d clearly run out of room (again) and began slotting new acquisitions atop existing rows corresponding vaguely to the disc’s place in the alphabet.

A poster clearly meant to evoke the memory of the traditional World War II propaganda poster bearing the words “TO VICTORY” with something that looked like a salt shaker holding a whisk and plunger hung between her television and bookshelves. The long wall that ran from the front door to the front of the kitchen was smattered with family photos and concert posters in varying sizes.

The dark brown leather sofa had to be almost a decade old, judging by the stylings. The coffee table brought a smile to his face. It suited her. Someone had attached four legs and a glass top to part of an old library card catalog. It’s not what he expected, given her appearance, but… This looked like the home of an English teacher, he decided when he glimpsed a stack of books and notepads shoved into one of the tall chairs in front of the pass-through window.

“Sorry. The cork got stuck,” Jess apologized as she handed him a full glass of deep red wine. “And you’ve been eyeing my furniture. I prefer spending money on things other than the things I sit on.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed it, but somehow it fits,” Rafael said with a small grin.

She sat down onto the sofa slowly, tucking her legs up under her and primly covering her knees with her dress. When he joined her, she smiled demurely. Taking another drink of her wine, she looked up at him from under her dark-painted eyelashes. “One of the few upsides for libraries going digital is the potential for novelty home fashions.” She opened one of the narrow drawers, pulled out a remote, and turned on the stereo. When the sounds of Led Zeppelin’s “Moby Dick” began pouring from the speakers, the fingers of her left hand began to move in time with the song.

“It’s unique, I’ll give you that,” he capitulated, inhaling the strong scent of the wine before taking a drink while he watched her fingers.

She stilled her left hand and moved her glass into it. “Thank you for dinner, Rafael.”

“And I suppose I should thank _you_ for the cab fare.”

She laughed. “It seems like my wallet _and_ my place are closer tonight.”

Taking her wine glass from her, Rafael put them both on the library catalog / coffee table. “It would seem so.” Closing the distance between them, he pulled her against him and pressed his lips to hers.

Letting out a soft sigh when his arms wound around her waist, she contented herself with running her fingers through his thick, dark hair. With the wine she’d consumed giving her courage, she lowered her hands to his lapels and began unbuttoning his shirt.

His hands trailed down and found purchase on her backside, pulling her onto his lap. He unfastened the black patent leather belt and started to pull the dress over head, backing off when Jess held up a hand to stop him.

“I think we’d be more comfortable in the bedroom, don’t you?” When he nodded his agreement, she took his hand and led him to the dark bedroom.

No sooner had she turned on the light, Rafael tugged the dress over her head. He took in the sight of his date clad only in a pink lace thong and matching bra. His eyes fell to a scar on her abdomen. But now wasn’t the time to bring it up, he decided when she finished undoing the buttons on his shirt and shoved it off his shoulders. His hands were on her ass and his lips were back on hers. With one eye half open, he walked her over to the bed and let her pull him down with her. “You are incredibly beautiful,” he whispered, throwing her bra…somewhere.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she moaned when he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. When he came up for air, she tugged his undershirt off. “You are still wearing too much clothing.”

Standing up to remove his pants, he was mildly surprised when she stood up and stopped him.

As she began to slowly undo his belt buckle, she stood up on her tiptoes. “Let me,” she whispered before gently nibbling on his earlobe. She smiled wickedly when he let out a barely audible whimper. With belt and fly undone, she sank to her knees and took his pants and boxers down with her. She licked her lips before closing them around the head of his half-hard cock.

His eyes rolled back in his head when she began using her hand in concert with her _amazing_ mouth. He almost wanted to sob as she released his now fully-erect and leaking length with a smack of her lips.

Reaching back behind her, she pulled a condom out of one of the drawers in the card catalog serving as her nightstand. She ripped it open and rolled it on him quickly. “And now, I’d very much appreciate it if you would fuck me until I forget my name,” she purred, climbing back onto the bed and crooking her finger to motion for him to join her.

“Anything the lady wants,” he acquiesced hoarsely as he yanked her underwear off and threw them across the room. He took one of her ankles in his hand and bent her knee up toward her shoulder before entering her wet heat slowly. He breathed slowly for a few seconds before bringing his shoulder to rest against her elevated shin and beginning to thrust.

Her mouth fell open with a pleasured shout as her hands closed around his forearms on either side of her head.

Pulling back a bit, he traced a line down the middle of her chest from her collarbone to her navel before his thumb found her clit.

“R-Raf--” she panted, releasing his arms and arching off the bed. “O-Oh my god. Raf, I’m…” Her words faded into a prolonged moan as she shattered around him.

Spurred on by her walls clenching around him, he pinned her wrists above her head with both hands and began to thrust harder and faster. He happened to look at the wall and had just enough time to feel a swell of pride at the fact that their activities had successfully been forceful enough to cause the headboard to dent the wall before his own release caught him by surprise. Once he could form coherent thoughts again, he kissed Jess soundly. Rafael rolled off of the bed and went to dispose of the condom in the bathroom. When he returned, he flopped back onto the bed beside his date.

“Liv is two floors down and across the hall. I’m pretty sure we knocked some books off her shelves,” she croaked.

“What, no Shakespeare?” he laughed as he caught his breath.

“He wrote Far From the Madding Crowd and The Return of the Native, right?”

“Let me learn to breathe again before you make me laugh. And those are Thomas Hardy novels.” He pulled the scattered bed sheets up over them and laid down on his back, not resisting when she curled up next to him and used his chest for a pillow. “And ‘Raf’?”

Jess grinned. “Sorry. I could only remember three of the letters in your name. I think mine starts with a J…”

“No, it’s fine. I like it.” He smiled and absentmindedly began to stroke the arm she’d slung over his middle. “You’re just trying to inflate my ego.”

“I’m the one that asked to be fucked until I forgot my name. And you succeeded.” She kissed the side of his neck. “Fuck me,” she breathed in disbelief.

“I just did,” he deadpanned. “Give me a minute.”

She descended into a peal of laughter and playfully swatted him. “I walked right into that.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I can see why you’re the prosecutor. I’m sure you get people to confess to all kinds of things they didn’t intend to confess.”

Rafael rolled over onto his side to face her. “Sometimes.” Just as his lips collided with hers again, he heard the muffled ringing of his cell phone from inside his jacket.

“Leave it,” Jess pleaded, gently tugging his bottom lip into her mouth.

“I wish I could.” He reluctantly pushed himself up and tugged on his boxers that were still where they landed beside the bed. Jogging into the living room, he fished the phone out of his pocket and sighed when he saw Olivia’s name on the screen. He answered the call and began redressing as best as he could while on the phone. “Duty calls,” he said with a shrug when he returned to the bedroom mid-buttoning up his vest.

“It’s only nine. Will you come back?” she inquired hopefully. “I was quite enjoying our evening.”

He was quite enjoying their evening, too. “If it’s not too late when I’m done.”

“Fair enough.” She slid out of the bed and crossed the room, running a fingernail down his shirt front as she passed. Pulling on the terrycloth bathrobe draped across the chair by the bedroom door, she turned back to him. “I’ll be waiting right here.”

He groaned and stepped into the bathroom. Stealing a bit of her mouthwash, he ran his fingers through his hair to get it back in place and checked his face for signs of her lipstick before tearing himself away from her. 

 

 

“Sorry to interrupt your evening, but it couldn’t wait,” Olivia apologized when Barba stepped into her office.

“No tie tonight, Counselor?” Carisi jabbed before seeing a crimson circle on the side of his neck. “Is that lipstick?”

 _Shit._ Looking over his shoulder at the taller, brasher detective, he smirked. It’d be nice to leave the man speechless for once. “It is, actually,” he confirmed flatly. “When I left her, she was in her apartment wearing only a _very_ small robe.” He bit his lip to keep from laughing when Carisi’s mouth fell open and Liv raised her hand to catch the lukewarm coffee that shot out of her nose. “I’d rather not keep her waiting too long.”

 

 

Jessica tightened the belt on her robe when she let Rafael back into her apartment two hours later. The look on his face was that of a man that, to quote the iconic Doctor Hawkeye Pierce from _M*A*S*H_ , had “seen too much to ever be wide-eyed again”. He looked exhausted. Definitely not in the mood for her plan of dropping the robe and pouncing on him again. She took his hand and led him back to the bedroom, turning around when he didn’t budge.

“I can’t, not right now. I need to decompress,” he admitted with a regretful tone.

“The look on your face gave it away. Liv gets that same look sometimes. I was going to suggest that you start decompressing by putting on an old pair of pajama pants that one of my brothers left here while I put some clothes on.” When he nodded, she tugged once more on his hand.

This time, he followed her and undid the buttons on his vest with his free hand. He shed his suit coat, vest, shirt, and pants once he was back in her bedroom. Clad in only his boxers and undershirt, he draped the discarded clothing over the chair in the corner and pulled on the offered grey fleece pants. Looking up at her as she dressed in her underwear, a blue tank top, and some green sleep shorts, he sighed heavily. The entire ride to the precinct, he had to think of literally anything _but_ the fact that she was naked under that robe to avoid getting an erection in the taxi. And now here he was, back in her apartment with the job being done, and the only thing he wanted was to turn up a bottle of whatever liquor she had and drink himself into a coma.

“Drink?”

“My god, I thought you’d never ask.” He followed her into the kitchen, hot on her heels.

“More wine, or do you need the rest of my vodka?”

“Wine’s fine, really.”

“Since me riding you into the mattress is off the table for now, what would you like to do with the rest of our evening?” she inquired, removing the plastic wrap from the mouth of his half-full glass from earlier and handing it to him. “Didn’t want to dump out perfectly good wine.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Firstly,” he began, taking her glass and putting both on the countertop. He put a hand on her hip and drew her against him. “This.” He dipped his head and kissed her softly. Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry I had to leave.”

“It’s part of the job. I understand. I’m friends with Liv, remember? I’m used to interrupted evenings.” Taking his hand again, she led him to her couch. “Wanna get good and drunk and start your pop culture education?”

“Alright. And where do you suggest we start, oh wise one?”

“Let’s start alphabetically,” Jessica stated after a moment of thought before holding up a DVD box from her shelf. “Ever seen this?”

“I’ve never even heard of it, but I don’t think…”

“It’s a comedy, Raf,” she said putting the disc into her DVD player, definitely enjoying the sound of the new shortening of his name she’d discovered. “A dumb white collar criminal real estate developer and his crazy family.”

Rafael sat down on the sofa warily, popping out the footrest and reclining. He put his arm around her shoulders when she sat down next to him.

As the player read the disc and played some previews for shows she hadn’t thought of in years, she pulled the colorful crocheted blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over them before snuggling into his side. “Can you talk about it?” she whispered.

“Not really, no. Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. It’s… You’re better off not knowing.” The hand that rested on her shoulder moved up to caress the side of her head as he pressed a kiss to the side closest to him. There was something of an innocent quality about her, and he couldn’t live with himself if he spoiled that. One serial killer accusing the medical examiner of being one too didn’t exactly make for date conversation. “Even after all the time I’ve been doing this, some things still get to you. Tonight was one of those things.”

She rested her head against his chest and listened to his heart beating. “Liv’s said the same thing. I honestly don’t know how the two of you do what you do and manage to still tolerate the human race.”

“I do what I do because I know there’s no reason to ever raise a hand or a fist or anything else to a woman or a child, and it feels _so_ good to be able to lock up the ones that do.”

Tilting her head up, she kissed the hollow of his throat softly.

He fingered the black border of the soft wool blanket with a sad smile.

“Like it?”

“I do, actually. My grandmother made blankets like this for all of her grandchildren.”

“So did one of mine. She taught me how to do it, too. I made this one, actually.”

He muted the music playing over the DVD menu. “You made this?”

“Yup,” she replied, popping the “p” at the end of the word with a grin. “Be right back.” She climbed out from under the blanket and disappeared into the bedroom. Reappearing in the living room two minutes later, she handed him a blue toboggan and matching scarf, both made from the same soft and thick yarn. “I just finished these last week. It’s never too early to be ready for winter.”

Rafael felt tears welling up in his eyes as various memories of his late _abuelita_ came to mind. His hand closed around the hat with a pom-pom on the top and the first tear fell. She’d also made him something very similar to the more feminine hat in his hand once upon a time, too. He’d seen it in a magazine, and his mother couldn’t afford it. So, _abuelita_ made it for him for his birthday.

“Raf?”

“I’m sorry,” he said rougher than he’d intended and handed her back the hat.

Jess tossed the items back onto the pass-through counter and resumed her place at his side. “When did she pass away?”

“F-February,” he croaked, trying to keep more tears from forming.

“My maternal grandfather was my best friend growing up. He passed three years ago. I cried for three days and was drunk for five,” she admitted, suppressing the sob welling up in her throat. She sighed, looking up at the ceiling and blinking back tears of her own. “And I still can’t talk about it without crying.”

What he couldn’t tell her, not yet at least, was that he still blamed himself. She didn’t want to move to the home, but he insisted.

Instantly sorry for getting them onto this topic of conversation, she pushed herself up onto her knees and kissed his forehead. She let out a small yelp when his arms wound around her hips and his nose collided with her belly button. She began to gently card her fingers through his hair. The occasional grey strand glinted in the moonlight streaming in through the window. When the cushion shifted and her knee fell between the sections and hit a metal support, she reluctantly pulled away. “I didn’t mean to bring up memories or anything. I’m sorry.”

“Its fine,” he sniffed, putting his arm back around her when she sat down. “Now, you were going to show me a comedy.”

“If you still…”

“I need to laugh.”

She turned the volume back up on the television and pressed play. Leaning back, she pulled the blanket back up over them and reclined into Rafael’s arms.

“ _Look what they’ve done, Michael! Look what the homosexuals have done to me!_ ”

“ _You can’t just comb that out and reset it?_ ”

When the camera panned out to show a small boat full of men dressed as pirates holding signs, he sniggered. What he didn’t know was that his date’s heart skipped a beat.

 

 

 

When he opened his eyes the next morning, it took Rafael a few seconds to remember that he and Jessica had moved to the bed at about four in the morning after nodding off on the sofa. Then there was also her noticeable absence from the bed…and the presence of a fat black cat on her pillow staring at him with big green eyes. And the smell of bacon frying. He pushed himself out of her comfortable bed with a groan and headed into the kitchen.

She stood in front of the stove and tended to two pans. One contained scrambled eggs, and the other had the bacon. Her earbuds were pressed into her ears. Moving her head in time to the music coming from her phone, she flipped the bacon over and gave the eggs a turn.

He couldn’t help but smile at the scene in front of him, clapping his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh when she let go of the pan handles and began the worst dance he’d ever seen. She clearly didn’t know he was awake. The dilemma was how to alert her to his presence without scaring her. The last thing he needed was to take her to the emergency room because she dropped a hot pan on her bare feet. Tiptoeing back into the bedroom, he pulled his half-dead phone from his coat pocket and texted her.

When her text alert chimed through her headphones, she pulled the phone from her pocket. “ _I didn’t want to scare you, but I’m awake._ ” From Rafael. Disconnecting her headphones from her phone, she brought the music player back up and resumed playback on the song she’d been dancing to. “I take it you’ve been awake just long enough to see the reason that I don’t go dancing.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. It’s terrible. Also, there’s a cat in there.”

“Oh, so you’ve met The Dude. It took him a week to come out for Olivia. You must be a damn cat whisperer.”

“Were you even _alive_ when this song came out?” he asked, finally listening to the music.

“Hey, it came out in 1995. I was eleven.” Launching into “The Sprinkler”, she gave the eggs another toss. “Check it out! Once upon a time in ’94, Montell made no money and life sure was slow. All they said was 6-8 he stood…”

“Please stop. While we’re at it, that was terrible, too.”

She reached into one of the cabinets to the side of the stove and pulled out two plates. “I can’t make that promise,” she grinned, scooping half the eggs and half the bacon onto each one. “Especially after a bottle of wine.” She fished two forks out of the silverware drawer and handed one of the plates and a fork to him.

“I smell coffee.” His eyes wouldn’t open fully until he had at least one cup.

“Mugs and coffee making supplies are in the cabinet above the Keurig. You’re more than welcome to help yourself.” Jess grabbed her Captain America themed mug and went to sit on the sofa.

After his cup of coffee brewed, he joined her. “Do you have any coffee mugs without pictures on them?” He pointed at the mug containing a picture of a rabbit with a bloody mouth and “RUN AWAY!” printed on it.

“Nope. I had Disney themed plates until I got my teaching job. My mom gave me a set of ‘real’ dishes.”

“Oh my god,” he mumbled through a mouthful of eggs. “What did you do to these eggs? These are fantastic.” She crochets, teaches, _and_ cooks. His mother, if they made it to the “meet the family” stage, would love her.

“A little bit of shredded white cheddar, a little bit of shredded mozzarella, milk, salt, and pepper.”

“My mother will probably insist that I marry you.”

“Well if she insists, I guess you’ll have to,” she responded quickly. When he simply looked up at her clearly unsettled, she burst into laughter and put her plate down on the coffee table. “I’m _kidding_ , Raf.  Relax.”

 

 

 

After they finished breakfast, he took her plate, went back into the kitchen, and moved both pans from the stove to the sink.

“What are you doing?”

“You cooked. No matter what date number this is, it’s only fair that I…”

“No,” she cut him off, jogging into the kitchen just to shoo him away. “We dented my wall. Breakfast is the _least_ I can do.”

“If the lady insists…”

“I do.”

 

 

Pressing a final kiss to his lips, she shut the door behind him half an hour later. Something about the fact that he’d completely redressed to leave (not even leaving off his tie) was oddly arousing. She couldn’t keep him forever. The fact that he was called away on a case the night before made that abundantly clear. He’d sworn up and down that he wanted to take her out again. The overall experience of the evening (and morning) left her confident he was serious.

Jess decided that the dishes could wait for now. She pulled a book of crochet patterns off of a shelf on the long wall of her living room and several different balls of yarn from the hollow ottoman at the end of her coffee table. Turning her television on, she brought up Netflix. It was time for a marathon of _The West Wing_ and a quick crochet project.

* * *

 

 Monday. Rafael wanted to bang his head on his desk. _Scotch sounds lovely, but not at eleven in the morning_ , he thought as a defense attorney left his office. He turned toward the door at the sound of a knock on the door frame.

“They said you’d know who it was from,” his assistant said skeptically, carefully placing a small box with a card taped to the top on his desk. “She didn’t look like she was leaving a bomb or poison.”

Cocking an eyebrow, he thanked her. When she shut the door behind her, he peeled the card away. “ _Because I’m bored and procrastinating my lesson plans. Also, I found your pocket square in my bedroom. –J.B._ ” He popped the tape off the top and opened the box. He grinned like an idiot when he pulled out a tiny crochet banana smaller than his hand out of his pocket square from Saturday night. “There’s always money in the banana stand,” he laughed, wishing he was back on the sofa with her.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Couple of things to note here. 
> 
> 1 -- Yay a bit more Barba smut.  
> 2-- I'm leaving tomorrow to go on vacation for ten days. I'll be in London seeing Benedict Cumberbatch in "Hamlet" and just roaming England with my actual husband. So, I won't be updating or writing during that time. BUT I will have my phone and my tablet and can make notes.  
> 3-- I created a playlist for this story that has all the songs mentioned in the beginnings of the chapters. Speaking of which, the song for this chapter is "Devil's Waitin'" by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. Great band. (https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjgjKHy4ofeCrwF-ewB2nx9637Iz1stUa)  
> 4-- Y'all's reviews are cracking me up. I'm so glad you're enjoying this. I've had a helluva lot of fun writing it.  
> 5 -- This chapter has some spoilers for the two part season premier ("Devil's Dissections" / "Criminal Pathology"). At the end of this chapter, there is some dialogue from the episodes in italics. You'll understand why when you get there. You've been warned.

_Well I’ve seen the battle, and I’ve seen the war_

_And the life in here is the life I’ve been told_

_Well I’ve seen the battle, and I’ve seen the war_

_And the life out here is the life I’ve been sold…_

 

**Wednesday, June 10, 2015**

 

Sinking down into his office chair, Rafael Barba was half tempted to throw the first breakable object in the room against the stone fireplace. He shed his suit coat, unbuttoned his navy vest, loosened his purple striped tie, and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. He unlocked the screen on his cell and stared at the array of apps floating above the generic grey background. Who was going to call him next demanding answers? Rudnick was god knows where. His witness was in pieces in the morgue…

…and before his brain registered what he was doing, he’d sent a text simply reading “Are you busy?” to Jess. Mere seconds later, his phone notified him that she’d read the message in the blue bubble on his screen and of her impending reply.

“ _I mean, I’m making up a test for ‘Twelfth Night’ and catching up on laundry, but other than that, no. What’s up?_ ”

Pressing the contact details at the corner of the screen, he pushed the icon to call her.

“ _A text_ and _a call during the day? I feel special._ ”

“Will you be free tonight?” he whispered tiredly.

“ _Raf, a-are you okay? You sound like you haven’t slept in a week._ ”

“Have you read the papers?”

“ _The thing with the medical exam… Oh god. That’s yours, isn’t it?_ ”

“Yeah.” He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “And there were developments overnight and this morning that didn’t make the paper. My phone hasn’t stopped ringing.”

“ _I’m sorry, handsome. If I was a doctor, I’d recommend a strong mojito on the beach and a week in Miami._ ”

“With the number of cases this is going to call into question, I may not get a vacation anytime in the next two years,” Rafael lamented.

“ _Do you have a spare suit in your office?_ ” Jessica inquired after a moment of silence.

“What?”

“ _Every guy I know who works hours like you has a spare suit and a razor in their office. So do you have a clean suit?_ ”

He nodded before remembering she couldn’t see him. “Y-Yeah.”

“ _Then here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to take that suit and razor with you when you leave the office this afternoon. You’re going to come to my place. I’m going to cook dinner, and you’re going to forget all of this for a few hours. Oh, and if you protest? I won’t work out that knot in your shoulder I felt last weekend while we were denting my wall._ ”

He contorted his back in an effort to pop his shoulders…to no avail. “I’ll be there around six.”

“ _No food allergies I should be aware of?_ ” When he mumbled his answer, she continued. “ _Good. I’ll see you at six, yeah?_ ”

 

Endeavoring to make this visit as close to the iconic _Leave It to Beaver_ as possible, Jessica jogged to her front door with the pair of grey sweatpants in her hand as fast as she could when she heard the buzzer sound. When she opened her door to Rafael a moment later, she smiled sadly. She snatched the garment and small toiletry bags from him, hanging them from a hook in her entrance way.

“It smells amazing in here,” Rafael commented, dropping his briefcase next to the hook.

“Everything needs about a few more minutes to finish cooking, but then it’ll be ready.” Handing him the sweatpants, she took his face in her hands and kissed him softly. “C’mon. I’ll find you a hanger.”

He followed unquestioning when she led him to the bedroom. Once in the brightly painted room, he shrugged off his dark suit coat.

She immediately picked the coat up off the chair he’d thrown it onto and draped it over her arm. As he removed his vest and black and purple tie, she motioned for him to give them to her instead of tossing them. After taking his white button-down shirt from him, she began to pile his other discarded clothing over her forearm. When he put his feet into the sweatpants, she carefully layered his suit pants, shirt, vest, tie, and jacket onto a single hanger. “Dinner should be almost finished,” she informed, hanging his discarded suit up in her closet.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Think nothing of it, handsome.” She retired to the kitchen to check on her food, leaving him to lace up the pants. With oven mitts on both hands, she pulled a pan from her oven. She ladled part of the contents of the tray onto two plates. “Bacon-wrapped chicken thighs with peach slices and cilantro and mashed potatoes,” she announced, handing him a plate when he sat down in one of the high chairs at the pass through window. She pulled a bottle of white wine from the fridge and a bottle of scotch from a cabinet. “I hope this is okay. I don’t know the first thing about scotch…”

His eyes widened at the sight of the label. “Jess, this is a sixty dollar bottle of scotch, something you don’t drink. Let me pay you…”

“You have paid the tab the four times we’ve gone out,” she interrupted as she poured him a glass of the dark liquid. “It’s my turn. Now eat.”

Rafael grinned for the first time all day and cut into the rolled piece of chicken. This wasn’t an argument he was going to win. And the chicken was delicious. This woman could clearly cook more than eggs. He kissed her temple when she sat down beside him with a glass of wine.

The pair ate in relative silence and retired to the living room after rinsing off the dishes. Jess plucked the scotch glass from his hand and put both their drinks on the coffee table. Motioning for him to sit on the floor, she rolled up the sleeves of her blue long sleeved tee shirt and began to knead the knots peppered across his shoulders and upper back through his white undershirt. “Jesus Christ! When was the last time you had a massage?”

“Two years ago.” He moaned when she hit a particularly large knot on his left shoulder.

“When’s your birthday? I’m buying you one.”

“N-November”

“Shit, you might explode if you wait that long.”

He leaned back against her shins when her hands moved up his neck and into his thick hair.

“Also, I’m totally into this scruff thing you’ve got going on. You have my permission to keep it.” Doubling over as far as she could, she kissed his forehead.

“It’ll be gone tomorrow. I was just running late this morning. That, and the whole situation…”

“And we’re not talking about ‘that situation’ tonight. Tonight, you’re getting good and buzzed while we watch that second _Star Trek_ reboot movie you haven’t seen.”

 

Rafael smiled in his sleep. He had a mojito in his hand and was lounging on the beach in Miami. The breeze was warm, the sand was hot, and so was his girlfriend’s mouth around his cock. It all felt _sinfully_ good, like he’d need to go to confession the next day. When her hand moved further south and began to play with his balls, he threw his head back…

…Only the sunny Miami sky had turned into the white ceiling of Jessica’s bedroom. His eyes darted down to his crotch, where he was met with a flirty wave of her free hand. He let out a groan when the swirls of her tongue went from languid to…words failed him. He couldn’t even think of the word he desired in Spanish. Instead, he bucked into her mouth and closed his hand around her askew ponytail. Between the vibrations from her moans and her ministrations, he soon came in her mouth and collapsed back onto the bed. “Dios mío,” he muttered.

She laughed licked her lips dramatically when she knew he was looking at her. “You’re welcome. I’m giving myself bonus points for the Spanish.”

He reached up and tried to return the favor, but she shook her head.

“Your alarm is going to go off any second, so unless you’re secretly The Flash, you don’t have time. I do take rain checks.” She reluctantly reached across Rafael to the nightstand and turned the alarm off the klaxon alarm. “I’ll go start the coffee. Want an English muffin?”

“S-Sure.”

“Plain or with cream cheese?” She laughed when his reply came muffled through a yawn. “I’ll take that as a cream cheese.” Pushing herself out of bed slowly, she adjusted her disjointed ponytail and shuffled into the kitchen.

He managed to drag himself up and into the bathroom after another deep yawn. He brushed his teeth before grabbing the washcloth and towel she’d laid out for him the night before and jumping into the shower. Realizing her body wash, shampoo, and face soap were mostly gender neutral scents like mint, he breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t go through the day smelling feminine. After shaving and finishing his ablutions, he wrapped the towel around his waist and padded into the kitchen. “You’re a saint,” he yawned before taking the first sip of the black coffee (this time in a plain blue mug).

“Remember that when we have our first fight,” she joked, plucking the hot English muffin from the toaster and handing it to him on a plate. “And if you stay like that much longer, I might cash that rain check right now.” She looped her arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him…until his phone rang from the bedroom. Sighing heavily, she gave him a much tamer kiss than intended. “Go.”

Holding the towel in place, he jogged to get his phone and walked back into the kitchen. “He was _where_? … But he’s back in custody now? … Arraignment is when? … Thanks, Liv.” He ended the call and pulled her against him quickly, and kissed her soundly.

“You just got a good morning blowjob _and_ good news. I think today’s your lucky day.”

Rafael shook his head with a grin. “Only if I get you as my good luck charm.”

“I’ll take it. You,” she paused just long enough to nip at his lower lip “need to go get dressed so you can go do your big, badass lawyer thing.” When he let go and went back to the bedroom, she slumped against the nearest wall and sighed. He could do that as often as he wanted, and she wouldn’t complain. Maybe bad days at court should happen more often. Or maybe not. She let out a wolf whistle when he emerged yet again in a grey suit and dark orange tie. 

* * *

_Olivia Benson nodded before propping her head up in her hand at the bar. “Okay, so what do you need from me?”_

_“A thigh, establish cause of death. Suzie Frain is our strongest case,” Rafael urged, putting his whiskey back down on the bar top._

_“The thigh is gone, but you don’t need it. He cut her up, Barba. I don’t care how good those lawyers think they are. When the jury sees what he did to that woman, he’s done.”_

He sighed.

“We’ll look, but I can’t promise.” Flagging down the bartender, she ordered a glass of red wine. “On a lighter note, how are things going with Jessica?” she questioned hopefully.

“We’ve been out a few times. I stayed at her place for the second time last night.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a small smile, despite losing the motion earlier in the day. “We’re going _bowling_ on Saturday.”

She coughed. “You? Bowling? I’d pay good money to see that.”

“I’m sure you would,” he teased. “She’s been forbidden to take pictures.”

“How very lawyer of you. Has she cooked for you yet?”

His eyelids fluttered shut. “Twice. I’m going to have to start training for the marathon at this rate, or I’ll double in size.”

She grinned. “She cooked a lot for me when Noah was in the hospital with measles. There are about six different things that she makes that could be my last meal. I don’t know which side of her family is worse for your waistline, her Irish side or her Southern side.”

Rafael suddenly felt the need to get all of his pants let out.


	6. Chapter Five

Rafael Barba eyed the rented bowling shoes sideways. He’d forgotten about _this_ particular facet of the bowling experience. With a shiver of disgust, he slid on the shoes and set his own shoes in the chair next to Jess’s bag. Standing up in the uncomfortable and questionably clean shoes, he made his way to the rack next to the wall and selected the first bowling ball that he could easily lift (and didn’t seem like it would give him a disease). Just as he put it down in the ball return and began to put their names into the score computer, his date returned with two plastic pint glasses under one arm and a tray containing a plastic pitcher of beer and four plastic shot glasses containing god knows what. “What is _that_?”

“Cheap beer and some shots,” she grinned, sliding the tray onto the nearby table. “The onion rings will be here in a few minutes.” When he looked at her like she had three heads, she rolled her eyes and handed him one of the shots. “It’s a fucking bowling alley, Rafael. They don’t serve scotch. And don’t ask what this is. Just drink it.”

He sniffed the scotch-colored liquor. “It smells like Big Red gum.” He tipped the shot up and drank it quickly when she glared at him, coughing when the flavored whiskey burned his throat.

Jess laughed and effortlessly took her own shot. “It’ll loosen you up,” she remarked before pouring them both glasses full of the fizzy, yellow beer. “Might even make both of us better bowlers.”

Taking a healthy drink of the cheap beer in order to wash the taste of the previous drink out of his mouth, he grabbed his bowling ball and stepped up to the line when the computer indicated it was his turn first. He thought back to the last time he attempted this sport – a friend’s eleventh birthday party. With a slight running start, he approached the line and released the ball. He dropped his shoulders and rolled his eyes when the ball veered into the gutter just before it hit one of the pins on the corner.

Just as quickly as she moved to pick up her own ball, she froze and began to laugh. When the drums joined the distorted voice, she put the hot pink ball back in the return and began a terrible rendition of the Robot dance. “Well now don’t you tell me to smile. You stick around I’ll make it worth your while. Got numbers beyond what you can dial. Maybe it’s because I’m so versatile,” she rapped terribly to the Beastie Boys song filling the bowling alley.

Rafael gagged on the next sip of his beer when she used the slicked floor and equally slick shoes to do a passable Moonwalk. “I thought we decided on no dancing.”

“And I thought I told you that I can’t make that promise,” she retorted, grabbing her ball again. It’d been years since she’d done this, but that didn’t erase that competitive streak that comes from being one of several children. That, and she really didn’t want to embarrass herself. Standing a few feet back from the line and a step to the right from the center hash mark, she lifted the ball to her chest and made the same slight running start as her date. The only differences in their attempts were that her ball went into the gutter much sooner than his…and she managed to slip and fall squarely on her ass. She pushed herself into a half-standing position before she felt his warm arms circle her middle and help her up.

“Are you okay?”

She wiped her hands on her jeans before resting her hands on his polo shirt covered shoulders. “My ass’ll be fine, but my ego may never recover,” she whined with a pout.

“I think you’ll be fine.”

 

After two games (and another round of beers), the couple took the subway back to the stop nearest Rafael’s apartment.

“I still can’t believe you won both games,” Jess moaned, shifting the weight of her larger than normal bag onto her other shoulder as she waited for him to unlock his door.

“Maybe you shouldn’t take shots and bowl.”

When she knew he couldn’t see her, she silently mocked his tone. Stepping into his apartment after he turned on the light, she smiled. The apartment was sleek and orderly, much like him. She looked around the open floor plan of his apartment as he walked off to the bedroom to deposit her bag. The dark wood of his kitchen cabinets and the black metal of his appliances shone brilliantly in the flood of light from the bright lights in the kitchen ceiling. The bank of windows on one of his living room walls showcased the view of the lit city below. The center of the window opened out onto a small balcony. “It’s nice, Raf. It’s…you,” she offered when he came back into the room. “You actually have enough shelves to hold all your books.”

He grinned. “Yeah, y’know, they have these places called furniture stores that sell things like that. Maybe you should look into it.”

“Funny.” She rolled her eyes and snaked her arms around his waist. “Thank you for going bowling with me, despite the lack of scotch.”

“I’ll live. Besides, I got a great view of your ass every time you took your turn.” He dipped his head and kissed her softly.

“I should give you girly shots and cheap beer more often. You’re full of it, and I like it.”

“Don’t press your luck.” Pulling away when his stomach growled, he frowned. “We should eat something. Take out?”

“What kind?”

“There’s a fantastic Chinese place close by that delivers pretty fast.”

When he turned to find the menu, Jess stopped him. “Shrimp lo mein and an egg roll.” She kicked off her sneakers and padded into his bedroom. Pulling a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top from her bag, she quickly changed and returned to the combined kitchen / living room area. As he ordered, she took the opportunity to peruse his bookshelves much as he had hers. A few Tom Stoppard plays, some Tom Wolfe, a lot of books written before the Second World War, a shelf of law journals, a few cookbooks…and Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. Wouldn’t have pegged him as a post-apocalyptic literature type, but hey, at least it wasn’t something like Twilight. She’d have hated to dump a man that hot with a sizeable dick over that.

“Food’s ordered,” he announced, plugging up his phone in the kitchen. “What do you want to do until then?”

“I have no idea.” She bit her fingernail coyly. “Wanna do me a favor while I think about it some more? I always repay favors.”

“Uh huh, what did you have in mind?” he questioned with a smirk, crossing the room and dropping his hands to her hips. “Keep in mind, this will be your second favor of the day.”

“I just bought this yarn. It’s in my bag…”

 

“My arms are falling asleep,” Rafael protested, straining to hear the soft blues music coming from the turntable atop his audio setup over the clacking of the yarn ball winder currently attached to his coffee table. “How much longer is this going to take?”

“We’re almost done. Quit whining,” Jessica retorted with a smirk. She stopped the hand-cranked winder when the yarn tangled around his arm _again_. “I really need to break down and get a swift. I can’t use the doorknob or lay skeins on the floor because of Dude. I can’t use someone’s arms because I live alone.”

“I don’t know what a swift is, but if it means I never have to do this again, I’ll buy you ten.”

She rolled her eyes and quickly untangled his arm before resuming the cranking. “I don’t need ten, Raf. I just need one, but don’t go buy me one. They’re not cheap. Besides, I think we need to see each other a few more times before it’s gift time.”

“Says the person that _made_ me a present and got me a sixty dollar bottle of scotch.”

“It took me ten minutes to make. I used leftovers from another project. You needed a laugh, and I obliged. And as for the scotch, we already talked about that.”

He sighed in relief when the last of the yarn rolled off of his forearms and onto the ball. “Thank god.” He grabbed his scotch and sat down on the couch, finally able to listen in peace.

Jess joined him after a few minutes sporting a glass of wine, the skein of cream colored yarn he’d help wind, a printed pattern, and a crochet hook.

“I thought you were going to read.”

“Decided against it.” When she knew he was eyeing her, she began wrapping the yarn around the hook to make her foundation chain. Counting as she made each loop in the chain until hitting the appropriate number, she finally looked down, turned the work, and began to work the stitches back toward her starting point.

“That answers that,” he muttered with an impressed nod. He dropped his pen back down onto the coffee table, leaned back, and draped his arm around her shoulders. He smiled when she sighed softly and leaned into his side. “What’re you making?”

“A cowl.” She gently put down her work and flipped back to the first page of the pattern to show him the picture of the elaborate finished work on the front. “If I could do this and work out at the same time, I’d get things done sooner. And I’d be doing _American Ninja Warrior._ ”

“I’d love to see that regardless,” he laughed, resuming his work.

Jess elbowed him gently in the arm, causing his elbow to slide off his thigh and him to lose balance. “You just want to see me fall in the water.”

Raf playfully punched her shoulder in retaliation. “A little.”

“I’m liking this playful side. It’s sexy.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her again.

She folded the pattern back to the first page of instructions and picked her work back up. She looked down at the clock on her cell phone when a knock came at the door. “That didn’t take long.”

 “That was alarmingly quick,” he said skeptically, pushing himself off the sofa. He stopped halfway to the door and raised an eyebrow. “Of course. It’s Saturday night, and my girlfriend is staying over. It _has_ to be work.”

Before she could make mention of the fact that he’d just called her his girlfriend for the first time, she suddenly found herself wishing she hadn’t taken French in high school when he began to swear under his breath in Spanish. “So it is work.”

“No, and it’s not the food.” He opened the door with a nervous smile. “ _Mamí, ¿qué estás haciendo aquí? ¿Cuántas veces te he pedido que llame antes de venir?_ ”

Jess shrank down into the sofa. She knew enough Spanish to get her a beer and to the bathroom, but she wasn’t dumb. Certain words were universal. If he couldn’t get their unexpected guest to leave, she would be meeting the mother of the man she’d been seeing for all of five dates. Fuck.

“ _Raffi, esta es una de las únicas veces que conozco que usted no está trabajando_ ,” she complained, hugging him.

“ _Esto realmente no es un buen momento_...”

Jess could sense the nervousness in his tone and cringed. At least she’d gone for full-coverage makeup with contouring today. And had touched up her peach lipstick after the alcohol at the bowling alley.

“ _¿Por qué? A menos que usted no está solo..._ ” Lucia Barba stopped suddenly and looked up at her son. “ _No estás solo, ¿verdad?_ ”

“Jess, come meet my mother,” he called, shoving his hands into his pockets. “She won’t bite.”

Mouthing a quick prayer, she stood up from the sofa, straightened her shorts, and smoothed down her dark grey tank top. She walked around the sofa and into the open kitchen by the door.

“ _Raffi, ella es encantadora. ¿Por qué no me hablaste de ella?_ ” she prodded.

“Jess, this is my mother, Lucia Barba.” He turned to his mother, looking down his nose at her sternly to make her speak so Jess could understand. “ _Mamí_ , this is my girlfriend, Jessica Bell.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Barba,” she greeted formally, extending a hand. She squeaked in surprise when she found herself on the receiving end of a hug and a kiss on the cheek instead of the expected handshake.

“Mrs. Barba was my mother-in-law,” the older woman replied. “Call me Lucia.”

“Alright, Lucia,” Jess breathed once she was free of the embrace. “It’s still nice to meet you.”

“I didn’t tell you about her because we haven’t been seeing each other all that long,” he explained.

“We were waiting on takeout.” Jess stepped to the side and motioned for his mother to sit at one of the tall chairs against the large island in the middle of the open kitchen. “We were out earlier. Rafael has paperwork to take care of this weekend, and I had stuff to read for class. So we decided to keep each other on track.” At the sound of a second knock on the door, she ran a hand nervously through her hair. “And I’m assuming that’s it.”

“Are you a student?”

“No ma’am. I teach high school English Lit. I’m preparing for a new elective class.”

The older woman couldn’t help but grin knowingly at the younger woman’s response. _Good choice, Raffi._

Rafael quickly paid for the Chinese food and put the bag on the counter. “I’ve got some food in the fridge that I can put together for you, _Mamí_ , if you want…”

She waved her son away with a smile. “Thank you but no. I’d hate to interrupt your plans more than I already have. It was nice to meet you, Jessica.”

Managing to contain the yelp this time, Jess returned the farewell embrace. “It was nice to meet you, too.”

With her hand on the door, Lucia turned back to her son. “ _L_ _lame a su madre, Raffi.._ ”

No sooner had the door shut behind his mother, Jess let out a shaking breath. “Number one, I’m your girlfriend? Number two, is there a reason I got this look when I told her I’m a teacher?”

He opened one of the boxes and handed it to her before sitting down in one of the tall chairs. When she sat in the one next to him, he took her hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles “Number one,” he began, continuing her formatting “if you want to be. Number two, she runs a charter school in the Bronx.”

 

Stirring with a soft groan as the Sunday morning light streamed in through the blinds he forgot to close the night before, Rafael started to get up out of the bed but gave up. He’d fallen asleep on his back, and Jess had used that to her advantage. He smiled sleepily as he took in the sight of his slumbering girlfriend using him as a literal body pillow with one arm and a leg slung over him. When he’d woken up enough to realize that her use of his right shoulder as her head’s resting place had put his arm to sleep, he reluctantly had to push her away slightly.

He really needed to get up and work on that half-done motion in his briefcase. He really did. His eyes darted back and forth between the open bedroom door leading back into the living room and his sleeping girlfriend.

 _Girlfriend_. It’d been a while since he’d gotten through enough dates to use the term, but at the moment he couldn’t be happier that she’d said yes when he asked her the night before. _This_ sleep-mussed (and now beginning to snore softly) and beautiful little weirdo in his bed was _his._ He rubbed at his eyes and watched her sleep peacefully for a moment. He tucked a tuft of her dark hair that’d come out of her ponytail sometime in the night behind her ear before giving a mental middle finger to the aforementioned motion. Rolling onto his side to face her, he covered her hand with his and let sleep find him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I'm back from London! Time to get y'all another chapter. There's no smut, but there's some fluff. I've got plans for this story, and want to put fluff in when I can. Thanks for all the comments and kudos while I was gone. I'm behind on replying (not ignoring you) because no one at my job did shit while I was gone, so I'm STILL catching up on paperwork.
> 
> So the Spanish in this chapter... Yeah. I took French for four years in high school and two years in college (and of course, remember next to nothing). So this is all Google Translate. If anyone wants to help make it better, let me know.
> 
> “Mommy, what are you doing here? How many times have I asked you to call before you came?”  
> “Raffi, this is one of the only times I know you’re not working.”  
> “This really isn’t a good time.”  
> “Why? Unless you’re not alone…” “You’re not alone, are you?”  
> “Raffi, she’s lovely. Why didn’t you tell me about her?”  
> “Call your mother, Raffi.”


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mentions of the events of "Institutional Fail" (s17e04) and of past child abuse. You have been warned.
> 
> Also, the song for this chapter is "Encore une nuit" by Marie-Mai. Yes, it's in French, but it's on point.
> 
> Playlist can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjgjKHy4ofeCrwF-ewB2nx9637Iz1stUa
> 
> Oh, and there will be more Barba smut and Carisi sass in the next chapter. I'm working on finishing and editing it now.

_Assis tout seul dans le salon, ton père marmonne ses illusions_  
_Il se fait croire qu’il a raison, qu’il n’a pas vu les bleus sur ton front_  
_Purtant il a si mal_  
_Pourquoi est-ce si normal  
_ _De tant vouloir t’aimer et sans cesse te faire pleurer…_

 

**Friday, August 14, 2015**

Jess tucked her towel around her and grabbed her phone from the bathroom counter. Liv had texted her while she was in the shower post-workout.

_Rough day in court. Your boyfriend might need some food and a hug. He didn’t look too happy when he left._

She raised an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine too many people looking happy after a case like this,” she observed, remembering the headlines about the poor little girl that died on D.C.S.’s watch. Exiting out of the message from her friend, she padded into the kitchen and rifled through her fridge and cabinets. She determined that she had enough ingredients to make a chicken and asparagus casserole and brought up the message thread with Rafael. “Hey, handsome. Got any plans tonight? I’m cooking!” After hitting send, she set the oven to preheat and went off to get dressed.

Re-entering the living room sporting a pair of grey cotton shorts and a navy _Star Trek_ tank top, she grabbed her stereo remote and scrolled through the music on her iPod until she found something fitting her mood. She pushed play, and the psychedelic sounds of The Black Angels’  Indigo Meadow album filled the apartment. “Now we’re cooking with gas.”  

 

An hour later when the casserole was done, Jess checked her phone again. Not a peep from Rafael. He hadn’t even read her previous message. Maybe he was still at the office?

“Did he say where he was going when you last saw him?” she typed to Olivia. “Usually when I send him a message with ‘I’m cooking’, I get a response almost instantaneously. It’s been over an hour.”

_He didn’t say anything to me, but Carisi thinks he mumbled something about going home and having a stiff drink?_

She brought up her contacts list and pressed the icon to call her other half. He was ignoring her. The line rang twice and went straight to voicemail. He wasn’t in court, Liv confirmed that. “I really wish you’d pick up, Raf. I’m going to pack up the food here in a few minutes and head to your place.” She hung up and headed back into her bathroom.

Applying foundation, nude eyeshadow, a hint of eyeliner, and some mascara, she carefully packed up the casserole and made her way to the street to hail a cab. The last time he had a shitty day, _he’d_ called _her_. And now he wouldn’t answer her calls?

After paying the cabbie, she pressed the buzzer with her elbow.

“Wh—‘lo?”

“Raf? It’s Jess. I brought some food over. You weren’t answering your…” Her sentence was cut short by the loud buzzing of the door opening. She winced when the warm exterior of the special bag the dish was in came into contact with her side as she braced the bag to open the door. Once the elevator had deposited her on his floor, she knocked on his door.

He opened the door with a glass of scotch in his hand. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“About what?” She walked past him and set the warm casserole on his counter.

“Whatever it is. I just want to drink my scotch and pretend like today didn’t happen.”

“Raf, talk to me. Please?” She reached for his glass, but he jerked away and sat on his sofa, still wearing his black and brown tie from court. “Liv said you had a bad day, and…”

“And you decided you needed to stick your nose in?”

Folding her arms over her chest, she scoffed. “Really? That’s how you’re going to act? I bring food and…”

“I didn’t ask you to. I didn’t ask you to come, either.”

“But I did. I came because I was concerned. You wouldn’t answer your phone.” She came to stand in front of him again, this time managing to snatch the glass away from him.

“Because I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Then why didn’t you say so?”

“You’re not my mother or my priest. I don’t have to tell you _shit_.” He tried to reclaim his scotch, but she backed away. Angry at her self-insertion into his scotch and alone time, he jumped off the sofa and grabbed her arm tightly.

She flinched at the uncharacteristically rough contact, dropped the glass, and flinched again when it shattered on the hardwood floor. “You know what? You don’t.” Pushing past him, she headed for the door. “But I’m the fool for thinking you might need someone.”

When the door slammed behind her, Rafael looked down at the broken glass and spilled scotch on the floor…and caught sight of his own hand balled into a fist. What had he done? 

* * *

 

It was a blessedly quiet night. Olivia Benson was actually able to leave the station early. More time to spend with Noah at home. She watched from the sofa with a smile as he played happily on the carpet with a plastic truck…

And then it happened.

Her phone was ringing.

And it was Barba.

“Can I help you, Counselor?” she questioned, squeezing her eyes shut and pinching the bridge of her nose.

“ _I-I’m sorry to bother you, Liv, but I need a favor._ ”

“As long as I don’t have to call the babysitter.”

“ _I need you to find out if Jess is home. I don’t care what you say to her, just don’t mention my name._ ”

She sat up a little straighter on the sofa, curious as to what he might be planning. “Two and a half months and you’re planning a surprise proposal already?” she goaded.

“ _No, but if you don’t help me, you might lose your chance at that prize._ ”

“So why ask me and not her?”

“ _Because… Because I fucked up. She’s not answering calls or texts._ ”

“Like I hear you did earlier? If you don’t think she told me, you’re wrong.”

“ _I need to talk… I need to apologize_ ,” he continued, ignoring her question. “ _She came to check on me, and I was an ass._ ”

Olivia sighed. “Give me five minutes.” Hanging up the phone, she pushed herself up off the couch and grabbed Noah. She locked the door behind her and pushed the up button on the elevator. Barba was going to owe her. Once on Jessica’s floor, she made her way to her friend’s door and knocked.

“Liv!” she greeted with a hint of confusion in her voice. “D-Do you need me to watch Noah for a bit?”

“No, actually. But I do need to borrow a needle and thread. I can’t find one anywhere, and I just had a button fall off of a shirt,” she lied effortlessly, entering the apartment behind her when invited.

After a few seconds of rummaging around in her yarn ottoman, Jess produced the needed items. “No rush to bring ‘em back. I’m not making anything that needs them at the moment.”

“You’re amazing,” she praised, gesturing toward the needle and roll of thread. “Drinks sometime this week?”

“Sure! Just let me know when.”

As soon as she was safely back in her own apartment a few minutes later, Liv dialed the A.D.A. as she safely put the sharp needle somewhere that Noah couldn’t get at it. “She’s home. If you’re coming over tonight, stop by my apartment so you can return the needle and thread I just borrowed from her that I didn’t need.” 

* * *

 

“I told you that you didn’t have to return it tonight,” Jessica began as she opened her door. “You’re not Liv.” She put her hand on her hip and used the rest of her body and other arm to create a barrier across the door.

“But I have your needle and thread. And your casserole.” Rafael held up the items with an apologetic look on his face. “She really didn’t need them. I-I called her when you wouldn’t answer me. I wanted to see if you were home. We… I. I need to talk. To you. Please.”

She snatched the needle and thread from his hand and gave him a warning glare. Stepping aside, she gestured for him to come in before tucking the items back into their proper place. When the door shut behind him, she grabbed the still-lukewarm dish and put it in the oven to warm back up. Just because he was apologizing didn’t mean she wasn’t hungry. “You will remember this conversation tomorrow, right?”

He winced when he saw Dude on the back of her couch staring at him as if the cat was mad at him, too. “Yeah. I will. I drank about a gallon of Gatorade on the way over here.”

“You’ve got five minutes. I paused _The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills_ for you.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she began to drum her fingers on her bicep. “I’m waiting.”

He pointed at the sofa with one hand while the other one pushed his disheveled hair back. “Can you sit down please?” he insisted, turning away from her. “I don’t know why, but it just feels like it should be that way.”

Suddenly more nervous than mad, she complied. “All you did was raise your voice after…”

“No, that’s not all I did,” he whispered as he began pacing back and forth. “I did so much more than that, and I am so very sorry.”

“Raf, I don’t understand.” She was met with stone silence…and continued pacing. Unable to take it after a few moments, Jess stood up and grabbed him by the arms to make him stop. “More talking and less pacing, please. You’re scaring me.”

He took a deep breath and looked down at her. “Liv was right. It was a rough day today. I-I…This whole case has been rough for me. But...” He dropped his head into his hands.

“How about you and I _both_ sit down?” Shooing the cat from his perch, she gently helped Rafael sit down.

“This part of this conversation never leaves this apartment? It’s an ongoing trial.” When she nodded, he closed his hand around hers. “I had to cross the supervisor in that D.C.S. case. I had to sit there and listen to her deny falsifying reports on kids, deny even knowing about it. Paperwork said they were fine, but these kids weren’t. She had to have known. I…I almost cried in the middle of the fucking courtroom, Jess.”

She put a reassuring arm around his shoulders, unsure of exactly what to do. “It’s okay, Raf.”

Stripping off his suit coat and throwing it across the coffee table, he rolled up his sleeves with shaking hands. He cupped her cheek and stared into her eyes as tears began welling up in his eyes. “I saw you when I yelled. I know the look you had on your face when you flinched when I grabbed you, the fear. It’s the same look my mom got when _he_ yelled. A-And when you stormed out, all I could see was one hand balled into a fist and smashed glass on the floor, just like my father. In that moment, I was no better than that bastard. That, and the supervisor… And…”

She was taken aback when he practically collapsed against her. Managing to maneuver one leg between his back and the back of the sofa, she pulled him to her and gently reclined so that the weight of his torso rested on hers and his head rested on her breasts. Suddenly, her anger felt insignificant, like it had no place anymore. She was super uncomfortable…until her lower back popped because of the awkward angle.

“I’m so sorry. Y-You deserve better.” The tears that had been forming spilled down his nose and onto her tee shirt.

“What if I’m wondering what I did to deserve you?” she whispered.

“I’d think you were insane.”

With one hand protectively curling into his hair and the other gently rubbing small circles on his back, she adjusted into the sofa as best she could. “Weird, yes. Nerdy, yes. Insane, no. I have full control of my mental faculties.” Leaning up as best she could, she pressed a kiss to the top of his hair. “Nothing you did made me walk out of your apartment, Rafael. I was miffed when I walked in the door, and you were obviously in an emotional place and a wee bit loaded. I learned a long time ago that kind of situation is no place for my very Irish temper. That’s why I left. I happen to be very fond of you, and I’m not letting myself ruin this.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. We all have our scars and flaws,” she assured gently after a few minutes of holding him in silence. “A very wise person once told me that ‘all we can learn from them and be better people than the ones that gave them to us’.”

“And what have you learned, besides walking away from arguments?” he whispered.

Staring up at her ceiling, she considered her next words carefully. “To just keep going.”

Eventually, he sat up and pulled her up with him. “I’m so sorry, Jess. I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry I pushed you away…”

“God knows when school’s in session that I have days where all I want to do is come home and go full Timothy Leary and ‘turn on, tune in, and drop out’, so I get why you’d want to be alone after a bad day. Just let me know, okay? I’ll make a night of marathoning _Gotham_ without you.” She kissed his forehead and hugged him.

“Hungry?”

“Of course.”


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Barba smut is back. Also, hints of spoilers for "Community Policing". 
> 
> Playlist is here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjgjKHy4ofeCrwF-ewB2nx9637Iz1stUa
> 
> Song for this chapter is Norah Jones' "Turn Me On". Also mentioned (and on the playlist) is a mention to a scene from "Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan". The specific reference starts at 2:55 in the second video, but if you haven't seen the movie, it's a major spoiler.
> 
> Also, I'm having technological difficulties. If you read this chapter unformatted, I commend you. I had to borrow a laptop and put the spacings in again. It was a pain in the ass.

_My Hi-fi is waiting for a new tune_

_My glass is waiting for some fresh ice cubes_

_I'm just sitting here waiting for you_

_T_ _o come on home and turn me on…_

 _They really renovated this squad room_ , Jess thought as she made her way past the “authorized personnel only” door with her purse, two heavy gift bags, and a carefully packed cake. Blessedly, the tall, smarmy detective from Noah’s party back in May approached her.

“Are you looking for the Sar—Lieutenant?” the tall detective asked, remembering her from several months prior. “You’re her neighbor, Jen, right?”

“I’m here for the surprise party.” When he offered to help her with her load, she handed him the cake gently. “And you’re close. It’s Jess.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry…”

“It happens all the time, Detective… Don’t tell me.” She stopped mid-stride and looked up at the ceiling as if his name would be printed there. “Carisi.”

“Now I feel awful,” he lamented, leading her into Liv’s office.

“Don’t. It happens all the time.” Setting her purse in the corner behind the closed blinds, she put one of the gift bags on her friend’s desk. “Say, I’m looking for my better half. Have you seen him?”

Her “better half”? He raised an eyebrow. “Who’s that?”

“Oh. I didn’t know he didn’t tell you. Barba.”

Sonny shook his head. “Barba?” he asked in disbelief.

“Y’know, a lawyer about this tall, speaks Spanish, and has a caffeine problem…”

“Y-Yeah. I just never pictured him as a ‘hearts and flowers’ type,” he countered, clearly embarrassed.

“Flowers have happened,” she grinned, remembering the daisies he brought her the night they had sex for the first time. “Hearts? I… Y’know what, I’m not even going to touch that. I’ve already ruined his reputation as a hard-ass by telling you he brought me flowers.”

“I know nothing.” He smiled and opened the cake box. “But I haven’t seen him.”

“So,” Jess began as she put two candles in the cake and produced a lighter from the pocket of her jeans “I hear you’re getting close to being done with law school.”

Now he felt _really_ bad. He completely fucked up her name, and she not only remembered his, but remembered he was in law school? Maybe she could put in a good word in to him about the shadowing possibility he’d been dropping hints to the older attorney several times about. “I take the Bar next spring.”

“That’s wonderful!”

When she shed her cardigan, Carisi bit back a groan. Of _course_ she was a baseball fan, he thought when he caught sight of her Texas Rangers tee shirt. He’d just look past the fact that she was a fan of an American League team. …Did Barba even like baseball?

“So are you going to stay with the NYPD or…”

Her question snapped him out of his contemplation of Barba’s sport preferences. “I don’t know, honestly. I’ve been going back and forth a lot. Your boyf—Barba’s been of some help on the subject.” He winced. He didn’t know this girl at all, and his mother raised him to be a gentleman. “Been trying to find a good time and a good case to get some shadowing done with him.”

“Want me to put in a good word? I happen to know he owes me a favor,” she muttered out of the corner of her mouth when she saw her boyfriend walking through the squad room.

“I…” Sonny sputtered in response. On the one hand, this could be his in…but it didn’t feel right. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I wouldn’t want him thinking that I put you up to it. Besides, surely you need that favor for something particularly egregious, like a couples Halloween costume or a date to your second cousin’s wedding.”

She let out a snort of laughter. “You’re good.”

He sniggered in response. “Three sisters.”

“Three brothers,” she commiserated.

“You two are clearly having too much fun in here,” Barba observed flatly as he entered Liv’s office. They’d been together for almost three months, but Rafael could tell his girlfriend was leaving _something_ out. When he felt her hand on his back and her soft lips against his cheek, he let it go. Just as likely, they were laughing about him. And he didn’t want to know. Was Carisi slightly more age appropriate for her? Sure. But he wasn’t the one that made her grip the sheets so tightly she ripped them less than forty-eight hours earlier. Before he knew it, she’d poured him a glass of scotch.

As she handed him the scotch, she noticed Amanda Rollins entering the office. She excused herself from the lawyer and the lawyer-in-training and approached the pregnant detective with the second gift bag in her hand.

Rafael observed wordlessly as Rollins gingerly pulled a black and red blanket from the bag. With a quick squint and a swell of pride, he was able to tell that the blanket was crocheted. Jess made it. She was definitely a saint, and he didn’t deserve her for a minute. A week had almost passed since he’d shouted and she’d walked out. He still wasn’t quite sure why she was returning his calls and messages, but he was grateful for it. It felt like she was letting him off too easy, especially when she fussed at him for treating her with kid gloves over the whole thing. She’d protested when a box showed at her door containing a _Next Generation_ command uniform apron and _Star Trek_ cookie cutters as a continued attempt at an apology. Despite the protests, she sent him a picture of a batch of Vulcan salute-shaped cookies an hour and a half later…followed by a text simply saying “I never took the Kobayashi Maru test ‘til now. What do you think of my solution?” To which, naturally, he’d replied “I have been, and always shall be, your friend”. He felt a little better…

Rollins opened her mouth to say something, but it immediately closed again. “I…”

Jess closed her hand around that of the other detective’s and grinned. “From Texas A&M to Georgia, the little one isn’t alone in the SEC.”

Overcome with understanding and sports affiliation, Amanda wrapped her arms around Olivia’s friend’s neck.

“She’s coming!” Carisi whispered, ducking behind one of the chairs in the office.

Jess kept one arm wrapped around Rollins and the other around her boyfriend as he scurried next to her.

Fin ran in and quickly doused the lights in the office, only to turn them back on when Olivia entered her office.

“Congrats, Lieutenant,” the gathered group called amidst a group of applause.   

* * *

 

 **Thursday August 20, 2015**

Rafael rolled his eyes and suppressed a groan when another knock came at his door less than ten minutes after the barrage of Olivia, the Deputy Police Commissioner, Reverend Curtis, Counselor Henderson, and the Reynolds family left his office. “Please kill me,” he groaned, dropping his pen onto the desk.

“Then what’ll I do with lunch?”

His eyes shot up toward the sound of the voice at his door. His assistant stepped aside and Jess stepped inside. “It’s fine.” He smiled softly and nodded to dismiss her. He barely heard her say she was going to lunch, only replying with a hum. He watched as his girlfriend took in his office décor.

“Maybe I should have listened to drunk me and gone to law school,” she chuckled as she carefully placed the brightly printed lunch bag on the conference table in center of the room and walked around behind his desk. “Your _desk_ wouldn’t fit in my closet of an office. Half of my desk space is the top of a mini-fridge.”

“But then you couldn’t get paid to talk about Shakespeare all day,” he countered, finally greeting her with a chaste kiss when she came to stand beside his chair. “You’re dressed awfully nice. I thought you didn’t start back until Monday.”

She looked down at her flared black skirt and purple button down shirt. “I had to go in today for new student orientation and ducked out a little early. I’d rather eat lunch with you than colleagues I have to pretend to like.” She smiled when he let out a low whine as she began to massage his neck. “Now what’s got you wishing for death? I’m guessing the police shooting?”

He nodded weakly. “City Hall isn’t exactly happy with me pursuing the D.C.S. case. Getting back on their good side involves me convening a grand jury, which coincidentally involves me getting on the bad side of every cop in this city.”

“Including Liv.”

“Yeah, including her. You missed her and _that_ argument by about ten minutes.”

“It’s a shitty situation, Rafael. I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to make it easier.”

He folded his hand over one of hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Given the fact that I wasn’t planning on eating lunch today, you’ve done a lot.”

Jess shrugged. “If I’d known your day was this terrible, I would have worn some lingerie or something instead of…whatever I’m currently wearing. I got dressed in a hurry this morning.”

Fuck. He did _not_ need to think of her in something lacy and skimpy. “Don’t say things like that.”

She cocked an eyebrow at his strangled tone. She moved back around to the side of his chair, bending strategically so he could see down her blouse as an idea dawned on her. “So I shouldn’t tell you that in anticipation of my last weekend of freedom and you staying over, I went to Victoria’s Secret yesterday?” she whispered huskily in his ear. When his eyes fluttered closed, she let out a positively wicked laugh. “Have you ever had sex in your office, _Counselor_?”

He tried and failed to stop the soft moan that came out with his negative answer. Rafael’s eyes opened at the sounds of the blinds closing. “W-What are you doing?”

“I’d prefer everyone _not_ watch me make your day, if it’s all the same to you,” she joked, locking his office door and closing the rest of the blinds along the long wall.

 _Oh my god_. She was serious, and he was half hard just from a whisper.

Reaching behind her as she walked back over to his chair, she released her hair from the clip it’d been in all morning before slowly stepping out of her blue panties. With one knee on either side of his hips, she kissed down the column of muscle down the side of his neck as she reached between them and undid his belt and fly.

After lifting up just enough to slide his pants and boxers down, his hand found its way between her legs and his middle finger brushed over her clit. When she moved to give him better access, his face collided with her cleavage. His free hand undid the first several buttons of her shirt, pushed one of the cups of her bra to the side, and immediately sucked her nipple into his mouth.

Feeling just how hard he was, she kicked off her heels and repositioned herself so that her legs poked out under the arms of the chair and her feet were flat on the floor before guiding him inside her. With one hand curling into the soft red satin on the back of his vest and the other bracing herself against the back of his desk, she began to ride him hard and fast.

His head fell against the back of his chair. His hands gripped her hips possibly hard enough to leave marks…until she moaned. Loudly. One hand flew up to cover her mouth while the other kept up its bruising grip.

Her breaths became shallow as she moved even faster to chase her orgasm. Her newfound ecstasy was short-lived when a loud pop filled the room and the chair suddenly tilted to the left. She slid off of him and her hip banged into the arm of the chair. Jess started to laugh at the absurdity of the situation before realizing that she’d been the only one to hit a climax. Wincing in pain as she tried to maneuver back on top of him, she realized she couldn’t continue the way she’d been previously. “We’re gonna have to make an adjustment,” she panted. “Your chair tried to break my hip.”

Before she could offer an alternative, Rafael stood up and cleared the center of his desk with a brush of his hand.

She took his hint and hopped up on the desk facing him.

Stepping in between her legs, he pulled her to the edge of his desk and entered her again. He dropped his head and kissed her since the hand that previously silenced her was currently holding her in place.

She pulled him over the edge when she came again. Her head narrowly avoided colliding with his tape dispenser when she lay back to catch her breath. “We broke your chair,” she said through a breathless laugh as she climbed off the desk to find her underwear.

“It was here before I got here, so I’m not worried.”

Reaching into her large purse, she produced a towel and a small plastic box. She handed him the towel and produced a moist towelette from the box. “I brought these things just in case I got lipstick on you. Judging by the amount on your neck right now, I’m glad I did. You’re lucky it’s light pink today.”

“Thank god,” Rafael snorted as he cleaned himself off as best he could with the towel and tucked himself and his clothing back into his pants. “We uh… We didn’t…”

“I’ve got it covered. Been on the pill for years.”

“That was… Holy shit.”

Tossing the towelette into the trash, she looped her arms around his neck. “So what you’re telling me is we should do this again sometime, only maybe stick to only the sturdier furniture in the room.”

“Quite possibly. Now, if I’ve been successfully de-lipsticked, I need to run to the bathroom.”

Jess waved him out of the room. Grabbing a tissue from the box beside his warm coffee maker, she took the opportunity to tidy herself as well before sliding on her underwear and opening the blinds back up. When he returned, she handed him a tuna salad sandwich and bottle of water. “The original reason I came.”

“The other two were just incidental?”

She rolled her eyes. “So do you want a sneak peak of the new acquisitions?”

 


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next chapter are both short. I hope to upload the next one this weekend, as it's undergoing final edits. I'm trying to get through the next few chapters quickly in the hopes that I can get to my planned Christmas events in close proximity to actual Christmas as I can.

“I have never seen you drink whiskey before,” Olivia observed after the bartender made his way over to pour a glass of cabernet for her and a Canadian Club and Diet Coke for Jessica.

“I used to drink it all the time in college. Duane said he was going to buy stock in Jack Daniels.” Taking the first sip of the cool (and strong) drink, she set it back on the drink napkin and looked over at her friend. “I think Rafael’s rubbing off on me.”

“Jess…”

The younger woman held up her hand to cut Liv off. “I am _very_ well aware of the fact that you two aren’t really speaking at the present, and that’s between y’all. I’m giving you the same ground rule that I gave him.” She rolled her eyes and playfully elbowed the lieutenant sitting beside her when she choked on her wine. “Different ground rule, gutter brain. I love you, but not like that. Why in god’s name would I tell _you_ that I’m not into anal?”

Once she’d coughed the wine out of her wind pipe, Olivia Benson ran her hands through her hair.

“What I was going to say was the _Bambi_ style ‘if you can’t say anything nice’ rule is in effect. He’s not allowed to say anything other than how wonderful you are in my presence, so I’m saying the rule works both ways now.” When her drinking buddy sighed, she pulled her phone from her pocket and continued. “You’re my friend, Liv. You’ve been there when I needed someone the most. And he’s someone I care about deeply. I-I can’t take sides in this.”

“I know,” she resigned. “So John got engaged?”

“And my future sister-in-law has asked me to be a bridesmaid.” Downing the rest of her substantial drink, she pulled up the picture of the yellow bridesmaids’ dress from her email and slid the phone so that Liv could see the screen. “I’ve tried it on. The cut is okay, but that dress will wash me out. She wants me to do everyone’s makeup, too. There isn’t enough ‘banana’ powder in the world for this.”

“Have you asked your new beau to go with you yet?”

She snatched her phone back and stuffed it in her purse. “The wedding is next June, Liv. That’s… It’s a ways off. I…”

“He and _I_ may not be on the best of terms at the moment, but I know for a fact that he’s…happy. He smiles.” Tossing her head back and forth a few times, she almost forgot that she was pissed off at the snarky Cuban. “I don’t want to know what you’re doing, but…”

“Keep it up?”

“And ask him to the wedding.”

* * *

 

**Labor Day 2015**

 

 _Jesus, even her car suits her. It’s probably as old as she is_. Rafael shook his head when he caught sight of his grinning girlfriend pulling up to his building in a positively ancient Volkswagen Golf. Opening the passenger door, he slid into the front seat…and was immediately met with a cornucopia of various smells. Good smells. Food. “Something smells amazing.”

“Probably the chili,” Jess shrugged, gesturing toward the crock pot and Tupperware container in the back seat as she pulled away from the curb. “Either variety. John’s fiancée is vegan. And a hippie. He’s happy, so I keep my mouth shut.”

“Lovely,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah. I almost beat her to death with a two-by-four the first time I met her. Not only is meat murder, but I had to defend my wool sweater.” When she saw him drop his head into his hands out of the corner of her eye, she shifted the car into third and put a reassuring hand on his knee. “Alcohol helps. Also, if you haven’t picked up on it yet, my dad _really_ likes The Allman Brothers.”

“What?”

She looked down over her sunglasses at him. “I have three brothers named Duane, Gregg, and John. My name’s Jessica. He _really_ likes The Allman Brothers. And scotch.”

Thank god for small mercies.

 

An hour later, Jess pulled the parking brake and shut the car off in front of a modest house on Long Island. “Guess we’re the late ones,” she observed after counting the other cars.

He reached into her back seat and grabbed the Tupperware bowl full of vegan-friendly chili and shut the door behind him. Rafael followed her up the sidewalk to the front door, taking a moment to appreciate the way her navy capris and wedge heels flattered her calves and backside. Now really wasn’t the time to ogle her, but it’s not like he could avoid noticing that she was dressing to impress him. When the front door opened, he blinked in response to the cacophony of voices, both young and old.

Awkwardly positioning the crock pot on her white tee-shirt covered hip, she gave the older man that greeted them with a one-armed hug.

“And who’s this?”

“Oh, Daddy,” she said quickly, pulling away. “Where are my manners? Dad, this is the guy I told you about, Rafael Barba.” Turning back to her date, she smiled. “Raf, this is my dad, Colonel Roger Bell.”

Barba let out the breath he’d been holding as nonchalantly as he could when the intimidating larger figure in front of him shook his hand with a smile. There was a reason he decided on a plain purple button down and khakis despite Jess’s insistence that he didn’t need to dress up. He’d seen a picture of this man in her apartment. Knowing he was ex-military and that his girlfriend was his only daughter? Yeah. Like he was going to wear jeans.

“Nice to finally meet you,” the elder Bell added with a deep voice after his daughter took the other container from her date and padded into the kitchen. “So, I hear you’re an attorney.”

“Y-Yes sir,” he stammered, unsure of just what Jess had told him. “I’m an Assistant District Attorney. I work with the Special Victims Unit.” He was also suddenly even gladder that he’d gone for “nicer than yacht” wear.

“C’mon,” he gestured. “Lemme get you a drink. What’re you having?”

“Whatever you’re having?”

“Bold, but a good answer.” He picked up a glass from the end table by the couch and took the final sip. “I need a refill anyway.”

He warily followed her dad into the kitchen and gratefully accepted the rocks glass of scotch from him. He smiled at the sight of Jess flitting around the kitchen with an older woman, her mother he presumed. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“Eileen, leave the food alone for a minute and come meet Jessica’s arm candy!”

Rafael choked on his drink at the introduction. He looked up to see both his girlfriend and her mother standing with hands on hips sporting the exact same “are you fucking serious” look. He had to choke back a laugh.

Once the moment dissipated, he followed the hallway back toward the bathroom. He stopped just short of the door when he saw a small cluster of photos on the opposite wall. The pictures were all of the same young girl, a girl that was in several pictures on Jessica’s wall as well. He’d assumed it was a cousin or some other relation, but these pictures were of all intimate moments like Christmas morning. It had to be someone closer… After relieving himself, he returned to the hallway and almost jumped out of his skin when Jess came up behind him.

“Just need to wash my hands. They’re about ready to eat.”

He caught her hand just as she was about to step into the dark room. “Who is she, the girl in these pictures?” When she faltered, he dipped his head to look into her eyes. “She’s in pictures at your place, too. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Directing her date into the nearby guest room, she pulled the door around but didn’t quite shut it. “She’s my little sister, Raf.”

“You never mentioned a sister. Y-You only mentioned your brothers…”

“Because it’s a touchy subject. If we don’t go back out there soon, my mom’s going to think that we’re…”

He shook his head in disbelief, blocking her from leaving the room. “You have a sister, and she’s a ‘touchy subject’?”

Jess removed her hand from the door. “Her name was Mary. She and John were twins. I carried her around like my own personal baby doll because I was eight when they were born. I finally had a sister.” Letting out a pained sigh, she sank down onto the bed. “She took her own life just after her eighteenth birthday five and a half years ago. It’s touchy because everyone pretty much blames themselves, even now.”

“Jess? Rafael?” her mother called from the kitchen.

“See?” She smiled despite the sadness of the story. “I’m thirty-one, and she worries every time I close the door to a room and there’s a man inside. If I ever have kids, I’m going to tell her that I pregnant because I closed a door.” When he laughed, she stood up and walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

With his drink in hand, Rafael exited the bedroom shortly after Jess…only to jump back a foot and slosh some scotch onto the dark carpet when three screeching children under the age of ten darted around the bend in the hallway followed by an adult that looked remarkably like Jess pretending to be some sort of dinosaur. “Jesus…”

Realizing he’d startled the stranger, the adult stood up and cleared his throat. “Sorry, they just watched _Jurassic World_ last week and are obsessed with the raptors.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly before extending a hand for a handshake. “You must be Jess’s date. I’m Duane, by the way.”

“Rafael Barba,” he responded, returning the gesture. “ _Jesus, does your whole family know about me?_ ” He hit send on the message after Duane resumed chasing the gaggle of children.

“ _For fuck’s sake, I mention you to my dad ONE TIME…_ ”


	10. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay y'all. So I'm uploading this chapter and hope to finish the next one this week. Reason for that is that I have some Christmas-themed stuff in the chapter after these two, and I want to upload it as close to Christmas as I can. It'll probably still be late, but better late than never?
> 
> I've seriously never updated a fic this quickly. (It's taken me almost THREE YEARS to get within shouting distance of finishing my current Marvel Universe story. Clearly, Barba is inspiring?
> 
> The song at the beginning of this chapter is "The Way You Look Tonight" by Bing Crosby and Dixie Lee. Also mentioned is "Marry Me a Little" from Company. Yes, that was very intentional. Playlist link again: www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjgjKHy4ofeCrwF-ewB2nx9637Iz1stUa

_With each word, your tenderness grows_

_Tearing my fear apart_

_And that laugh that wrinkles your nose_

_It touches my foolish heart_

_Sweetheart, never never change_

_Keep that breathless charm_

_Won’t you please arrange it because I, I love you?_

_Just the way you look tonight…_

 

**October 10, 2015**

 

Jess purred when Rafael’s lips moved from hers down to the hollow of her throat. Grabbing his suspenders, she lay back on the couch and pulled him down on top of her with a giggle. She applied just enough pressure on his cheek to make him look back up at her. Just as she closed her eyes and moved to kiss him again, her eyes shot open again at the frantic knocking on her door.

“Jess? Jess, please be home!”

He pulled back and sat up. “Olivia?” he mouthed, quickly smoothing his hair and shirt back down. He suddenly felt like a teenager fumbling around to cover up evidence of him having kissed a girl from his mother.

She shrugged, clearly confused and jogged to answer the door. “Liv?” she greeted.

“Thank god you’re home,” the lieutenant breathed, stepping inside her friend’s apartment and dropping the large blue diaper bag onto the floor. “I’m sorry to bother you like this. I got an emergency call, and Lucy’s out of town for the weekend…” She trailed off halfway through handing Noah to Jess when she caught sight of her A.D.A. sitting awkwardly on the sofa. “Counselor… Sorry to interrupt.”

Jess balanced Noah on her hip and smiled at the two year old.

“Can I leave him with you for a little while?”

“Sure,” she agreed in a higher pitched, sing-song voice and touched the tip of his nose.

“Anything I need to go in for?” Barba asked after clearing his throat.

“Shouldn’t be, no.” She kissed the crown of Noah’s head. “Mommy’ll be back in a little while, Noah.”

Once Olivia left, he blew a raspberry. “Guess I need to cancel the reservation?”

“Yeah,” she drawled, sitting Noah down on the sofa next to Rafael. “I don’t think they have paper tablecloths and crayons where we were going. Sorry, handsome, it’s Netflix for Kids and eat at home night.”

“Was that meant for me or him?” He tried to scoot away from his friend’s son…until the little guy crawled into his lap.

She bit her lip to keep from laughing at his obvious discomfort with the whole situation. Making her way into the kitchen, she took stock of what was left in her fridge that Noah would eat while he cancelled the reservation. She pulled out some pasta shells, along with Velveeta, milk, and some hamburger meat.

“So you work with kids all day,” he blurted suddenly. He realized they'd been together for almost five months...and somehow never had this discussion. “Ever thought of having any?”

She put a pot of water on the stove to boil the pasta. “I’ve thought about it when alone and drunk. I’ll think it’s a good idea for a few days until one of my students pisses me off and I suppress my maternal instincts again. Besides,” she paused to rummage for a knife to cut up the Velveeta. “There are a couple of things that would need to happen before I’d let someone knock me up. You?”

“I-I’m not very good with kids.” He cringed when a small hand took his phone and began tapping on the screen.

“While I can see that, Noah seems to disagree with you,” she laughed. A few minutes after the pasta water was boiling, she dumped the hamburger meat into a large pan and began to break it up with a wooden spatula. Jess turned back toward the living room when she heard their charge for the next little while begin to fuss.

“Uh…a little help?” Rafael called shakily. “I have no idea what’s wrong.”

Swearing under her breath, she turned the heat down on the burner and jogged to his aid. “Keep an eye on the stove?” She picked Noah up and checked his pull-ups. He didn’t need a change. “What is it, buddy?” she inquired gently.

Stirring the cooking meat half-heartedly, he kept one eye on her. She looked at home with him in her arms. Despite his own experiences and his instinct to flee from children in general, he couldn’t help but wonder what combination of snarky and sweet a child with their shared genetics would be. He shook his head and cocked an eyebrow in annoyance when she asked Noah if the reason he was upset had anything to do with his “Uncle Rafael being boring”.

Shaking a few of the puffed snacks Liv had put into the bag into the palm of her hand, she held them up to him. “Dinner’s working. You’ve had my beefy mac and cheese before. You got it all over your face, but you liked it,” she offered as he chewed one of the star-shaped pieces with a sniffle. “I know I’m not mom, but will I do for a while?” Gasping comedically, picked up her phone from the coffee table and scrolled through the albums in her music app until she found the appropriate one. She handed the phone to Noah after pushing play. When he smiled, she motioned for Rafael to come back and sit with him.

_Marry me a little, Love me just enough. Cry, but not too often, Play, but not too rough…_

Confused, he acquiesced and rejoined Noah with his snacks and entertainment on the sofa. He looked down at the screen and then back up at Jess.

_Keep a tender distance so we’ll both be free. That’s the way it ought to be…_

She shrugged. “I’m trying to start him early. He likes Sondheim so far. A little young for cannibalism, but _Company_ and _Into the Woods_ are okay.”

_I’m ready! Marry me a little, Do it with a will. Make a few demands I’m able to fulfill. Want me more than others, Not exclusively. That’s the way it ought to be…_

“Strange…”

“Hey, I’ve taken care of my siblings enough to know that you don’t question it when something calms a kid down.” She returned to the kitchen and put the Velveeta and milk into a saucepan to melt.

With a sigh, he lifted Noah into his lap and mimicked her actions. He produced a few more of the snacks and let the toddler use his hand as a plate while he lost himself in the song as it continued.

_You can be my best friend, I can be your right arm. We’ll go through a fight or two – No harm, no harm._

Jess smiled from ear to ear. _Not good with kids, my ass_.

_We’ll look not too deep, We’ll go not too far. We won’t have to give up a thing, We’ll stay who we are…_

After a few more minutes, she strained the pasta and stirred in the cooked meat and cheese sauce. She turned the heat on the burner to low before ladling some into a small bowl for Noah and a larger bowl for Rafael and setting them on the pass through. She walked back out into the living room, picked up the smaller bowl and fork, and gently lifted him out of his new friend’s lap. “Ready for macaroni?” She grabbed the bowl and sat down on the floor in front of the sofa after making a makeshift seat for him out of some of the sofa pillows. When Rafael didn’t move from his previous position, she froze and stared at him. “What?”

“What about you?”

“I’ll eat in a minute,” she dismissed, raising a fork full of noodles, cheese sauce, and hamburger meat to Noah’s mouth. “Once he’s taken care of.”

“Do you need help?”

“I’ve got it. Your food’s going to get cold.”

He reluctantly pushed himself off of the sofa and retrieved the bowl she’d set aside for him. He sat back down at one of the chairs against the pass through and watched her, feeling somewhat guilty as he lifted the first forkful of food to his own mouth. He should have insisted on helping to feed Noah first since she cooked. But when he _looked_ at her, the guilt disappeared.

“Your mom thinks I’m going to make you and her both fat, you know,” she joked, wiping a bit of cheese sauce from the corner of his mouth.

He watched her contentedly continue to feed their friend’s son with a stupid smile on his face. She would be a fantastic mother one day, maybe even to a half-Cuban and half-Irish sass box.

 

A knock on the door jarred Rafael awake several hours later. Rotating his head to pop his neck, he looked down his lap and really didn’t want to move. At some point during _Toy Story_ , Jess laid down on the couch with her head pillowed on his thigh while Noah fell asleep on her chest. He gently raised her head and stuffed a pillow under it before making his way to the door. “Liv,” he whispered, rubbing at his eye with a yawn. “Got it all taken care of?”

“Yeah, we did,” she suppressed a chuckle at his uncharacteristically disheveled appearance despite still being cross with him. Stepping into the dark apartment behind him, she took in the sight of her son slumbering on her equally slumbering friend’s chest. She picked up the diaper bag while Barba gently pried the sleeping two year old out of his girlfriend’s arms.

“Mmm…what’swrong?” Jess mumbled, still half asleep.

“Liv’s back.”

She hummed her understanding and gave a sleepy wave in the direction of her front door. Managing to open her eyes a little more, she caught sight of Rafael shifting Noah to carry him on his hip instead of holding him like he was radioactive. That sudden urge to procreate came back with a vengeance when the little guy buried his half-sleeping face in to Raf’s shirt. _Shit._


	11. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay y'all, have some more smut because you've earned it. Happy holidays. Goes without saying this chapter is NSFW. The specifics of this bit of smut came from a few Tumblr posts and a discussion with a friend about whether or not Barba likes to sub sometimes. Yeah... I say he does. 
> 
> So, the next chapter starts an arc I've been itching to get at for a while (and kicks off Christmas with a bang...literally). Angst, drama, and (sadly) a lack of smut for a while. But it's all so worth it. I wanted to have this next part up before Christmas, but life got in the way. I'm sorry. Forgive me?
> 
> Song for this chapter is "Green Green Dress" from the "tick, tick...BOOM!" musical. You're welcome.

 

_Deep dark velvet hugs your silhouette_

_Black silk stockings, you’re my Juliet._

_Soft blonde hair baby, baby blue eyes_

_Cool me down before I jump into your thighs_

_The green, green dress, twenty buttons and a strap_

_The green, green dress, what a pleasure to unwrap_

_Green dress, oh what it can do_

_What that green, green dress does to me on you…_

“Seriously, if you call me _cariño_ one more time, I’m getting the fucking Spanish Rosetta Stone,” Jess threatened, swatting Rafael away from the pan containing the cooking innards of a shepherds’ pie on her stove. “If I didn’t know how iffy Google Translate is, I would have used it after you said it the first time weeks ago.”

“If I tell you what it means, can I have a taste?”

“That is a low, dirty trick, Mister Barba.” She stirred the mixture of diced onions, ground lamb, mushrooms, cardamom, and finely chopped chili pepper one more time. “But it works.” Snatching the spoon from his hand, she scooped out a healthy spoonful from the pan but held it back.

“Literally, it means affection. But…depending on usage, it can mean ‘love’,” he admitted reluctantly as the fragrant aroma from the pan assaulted his nose. Anyway, she needed to hear it from him, not a computer.

She opened her mouth and quickly snapped it shut again. “And is that…‘love’ in the sense like the English use it, or do you…” This was actually happening. Right then. In the middle of her kitchen. Gripping the counter beside the stove to steady herself, she let out a shaky breath.

“It can, but I happen to actually love you,” Rafael replied without hesitation, taking advantage of her stunned expression to tip the contents of the spoon into his mouth.

The act barely registered in her mind. “You’re not just saying that because…”

He swallowed the mouthful earlier than he should have, wincing as the hot, un-chewed bits slid roughly down his throat. “Of course not.”

“Good.” Jess smiled when her heart stopped hammering against her ribs. She closed the little bit of distance between them, tossed the spoon into the sink, and kissed him. When she broke the kiss, she rested her forehead on the bridge of his nose. “Because I love you, too.”

It’d been several years since he’d really been in love, and he’d forgotten how good it felt.

At the sound of a thud on the counter by the stove, she lunged toward the source of the interruption – an overly curious cat sniffing at the hot pan. “Little shithead.”

Taking full advantage of her distraction, he fished the spoon out of the sink and stole another bite from the pan. It was November, but he knew one of his New Year’s resolutions already – run the New York half marathon so he could keep eating her food without having to get his suits altered. He coughed roughly when she slapped his ass.

“Stop eating out of the pan!” she scolded. “Last person that pissed me off this much while cooking was Gregg, and I decked him.” Emptying a small can of tomato paste and the wine-based gravy she made into the pan, she stirred it again before pouring the contents into a casserole dish. “So your birthday is next Saturday. What are you wanting to do?”

“Are you offering me a blank check?”

“Well, apart from what I’ve told you I don’t do under any circumstances, yes,” Jess offered, not looking up from her task of spreading the mashed potatoes on top of the mixture in the dish. “I’ve got your present already, anything else is just icing on the cake.”

Rafael dipped his finger into the empty bowl that used to contain the mashed potatoes and scooped up a finger-full of the remnants. “Is a lingerie request out of the question?” He sucked the mashed potatoes off his finger with a pleasured sigh.

“Not at all.”

“How do you feel about corsets?”

Her mouth twisted into a predatory grin as she sprinkled shredded cheese on top of the dish. “I like them on occasion. They make my boobs look _fantastic_.”

His hands fell to her hips after she put the food in the oven. It was hard to imagine her chest looking better than it did on a daily basis, but for once, he let his imagination run wild. “And uh…maybe you take the reins for a while.”

She turned around and looped her arms loosely around his neck. “So is that how this is going to work? ‘Baby, I love you. Will you wear a corset and tie me up’?” When he sputtered his response, she laughed. “I’m not mad. I’m kind of excited, really. Been waiting for your kinky side to come out, Mister Badass A.D.A.,” she teased. “I’ll need two of your ties and a safe word.”

Yeah. He was definitely in love.

**Saturday November 28 th, 2015**

 

Rafael swallowed hard when he took stock of his girlfriend’s attire. It was like she stepped out of one of those “hot for teacher” pornos with her black stilettos, hound’s-tooth patterned pencil skirt, black button-down shirt, and her hair pulled back into an austere clip. She’d even put on fake eyelashes. Christmas wasn’t technically for another month, but for him, it’d come early. Speaking of which, he was going to have to get her something nice…if he could figure out exactly what kind of gift would say “I love you” and “thanks for being a kinky nerd with me” at the same time.

“You brought the other tie I requested, right?” Jess inquired, lacing her fingers together and pushing out in order to crack her knuckles.

He loosened and removed the navy tie with red and light blue flowers that was around his neck. Handing it to her, he fished the orange patterned one out of his pants pocket. “Why these two in particular?”

“Because they’re my two favorites.” She shrugged before looping the blue tie around his wrists and tightening the full Windsor knot again. “And part of me is rather turned on by the fact that you’ll wear these to court. No one but you will know that one of these was a blindfold, and the other kept your hands tied to my headboard.”

When she jerked on the tie to pull him closer, he took a step and tripped because he went weak in the knee. Yeah. He was going to start his Christmas shopping in the morning.

Using the tie around his wrists as a leash, she led him into her bedroom. Jess removed the tie from his wrists and pushed his suit coat off his shoulders. “Safe word?”

“Objection,” he croaked.

“Something you can’t forget. I like it.” Tossing his jacket in the vague direction of the chair, she put her hands on her hips. “Strip.” picked up a glass of white wine from her nightstand and sipped on it slowly as he unbuttoned his vest. “So, Liv tells me that you and Detective Carisi spent some time together before Thanksgiving.”

“He shadowed me for the Hoda case.” He folded the vest and laid it down so it wouldn’t wrinkle. “I don’t want to talk about it right…”

She put the glass back down on the table and cleared her throat to get his attention. “Have you forgotten who’s calling the shots tonight?” she inquired when he stopped his removal of his shirt and looked up at her.

Swallowing hard, he shook his head.

“So, how did that go?”

“I think he killed an entire rainforest taking notes.” The dress shirt joined the vest and jacket.

“That’s a good thing though, right? Means he learned something.”

Rafael shrugged his response while stepping out of his pants.

“I… Uh… Assuming we’re still…” Jess blew a raspberry. This shouldn’t be this hard.

Pulling his undershirt back down, he took her hand and let her fingers curl over his index finger. “If you don’t want to do this…” he whispered, letting his lips ghost over her knuckles.

“It’s not that. Besides, I spent way too much money on this corset to waste this opportunity.”

“Then what is it?”

“Assuming we’re still together in July, willyoubemydatetomybrother’swedding?”

He couldn’t help but grin.

“I understand if you don’t want to. God knows I’ll be in the most hideous bridesmaid’s dress. And it’s in Martha’s Vineyard because the little vegan’s family’s loaded, so it’ll be pretentious…”

Pulling her against him, he silenced her rambling with a deep kiss. “I’d love to go. The dress can’t be _that_ bad.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and hugged him. “Oh it is. But let’s table that discussion shall we? You still have clothes on.” She watched happily while he quickly divested himself of his undershirt, boxers, and socks. “Someone’s excited.”

“Hard not to be.” He rolled his eyes when she snorted. “You’re terrible.”

“That’s me, terrible.” She stuck her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout as her hand came to rest in the patch of hair in the center of his chest. “I’m the terrible woman that’s going have you _begging_ for mercy shortly.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” she laughed.

“So if you’re Han, what does that make me?”

“A scruffy looking nerf herder that’s talking too much. On the bed, flyboy. Face up.” Once he was in position, she secured his hands to her headboard with the blue tie and dropped the orange one onto the bed beside him. Without saying a word, she reached behind her and unzipped her skirt before unbuttoning her shirt. She primly draped the shirt over the dresser before shifting her hip so that the skirt fell to the floor.

Rafael’s eyes rolled back in his head at the sight of her emerald green corset and matching underwear. God help him, she was even wearing stockings. Did Pandora make a charm for this? He thought his heart would stop when she climbed onto the bed still wearing the stockings and stilettos. Whatever she had planned, she was going to do it in heels. He’d been forty-one for all of sixteen hours, and wouldn’t live to see forty-two. If only his awkward teenage sci-fi nerd self could know that one day he would meet a goddess that would quote _Star Wars_ before tying him to her bed in the span of two minutes…

Jess kissed him softly after tying the other tie behind his head. “Now that I’ve got you where I want you,” she began, whispering against his lips “there are two rules tonight. Number one: you only get to come when I say so. Number two: you are to tell me when you’re close. Understood?”

“Yes,” he responded weakly. He couldn’t see her, but he heard her reach onto the nightstand for something. He couldn’t help but smile. He was the luckiest man on the face of the earth, and no one could convince him otherwise. He gasped when something _very_ cold and wet touched his chest. “Jesus!”

“No, just me,” she joked, sucking the ice cube between her lips and dragging it over his left nipple then the right one. When he squirmed, she dropped the cube and let it slowly slide down his stomach. “You’re moving far too much. Maybe I’ll just leave you tied up in here and go into the other room and take care of myself.”

“Please no. I’ll be still.”

Straddling his thighs, she tossed the cube back into the cup and licked a stripe from his navel to collarbone. “Good boy. Now remember the rules.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Normally, she despised being called “ma’am”, but she’d have to make an exception for him. It was absolutely sinful how much she enjoyed the way it sounded coming from his lips. She shifted herself down and ran her hands over his inner thighs and hips. He was aching to be touched, and she knew it. And if she was honest, she was more than happy to oblige. Taking his hard cock in her mouth, she began to suck him off quickly, only letting up when he managed to pant out that he was close. She pulled back and pressed small kisses to his thighs until he was ready for her again. The sight of his chest heaving and the sounds of his heavy breathing only served to make her get even wetter. What was that line from _Archer_? “I swear, you could drown a toddler in my panties right now.” She was going to have to make him watch that show, too. Running her thumb up the vein on the underside and up over the head, she began stroking him slowly.

“ _Jess_ ,” Rafael whined, tugging at the tie around his wrists. “Please…”

“Please what?” she purred.

“I want… I…”

“You’re already getting what you want, honey. You’re tied to my bed, and I’m in charge. Now be good and let me have my fun.” She brought him to the edge again with her hand and once more with her mouth. “Now I’m going to fuck you until we both see stars,” she announced, peeling off her panties and gently removing the tie covering his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered as his eyes re-adjusted to the dim light of the bedroom. He only wished he could touch the lush satin of her corset.

“Don’t thank me yet. I still haven’t said you can come yet. You can come only when I do.” When he only groaned in response, she sank down onto him and let him fill her up. She gripped the headboard and began to move against him slowly.

“I-I’m not going to last…”

“Don’t worry, neither am I. You have _no_ idea how hot you being tied to my bed is.” True to her word, she came a minute later with a boisterous shout that sent The Dude running out from under her bed.

Barba followed her almost instantly, arching off the bed and almost tweaking his shoulder from being still tied down.

Dropping her head onto the pillow beside his head, she grabbed for the tie and freed him. She managed a quiet, breathy “Happy birthday, Rafael” when his arms wound around her.

“You have my permission to do that whenever you want.”

“Which part?” she inquired, rolling off of him and onto her back on the bed next to him.

“Any part of it.” Turning onto his side to face her, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Thank you.”

“Did it top sex in your office?”

“By a mile.” He fingered the lacy ruffle on the top of the corset. “I feel special.”

Jess rolled over onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows. “You should. I don’t squeeze myself into corsets and thigh-highs for just anyone.” She opened her mouth to say something, but snapped it shut and jumped out of the bed. “Your actual present!”

He pulled the sheets up over him and watched her jog out of the room wearing only the corset, stockings, and heels. “I would have been fine with that being it.”

Returning to the bedroom, she handed him a plain white envelope, kicked off her heels, and climbed back into the bed with him. “Wanted to make up for annoying you with playing Adele on a loop for a week.”

“I still would have been more than happy with…” His train of thought derailed when he produced an email confirmation from the envelope…for two tickets to the midnight premier of _Star Wars: The Force Awakens_ the next month.

“I mean, we’re going to have to go to Queens because every theater in Manhattan is sold out…”

He didn’t care where they had to go. He was going to see _Star Wars_ at midnight with his nerdy girlfriend, something his fifteen-year-old self never thought he’d ever get to do.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These next few chapters will contain spoilers for "Star Wars: The Force Awakens". This chapter merely mentions the film, but no spoilers. Yet. 
> 
> And now we're getting to the arc of the story I've been itching to write for eons now. :-)
> 
> Song for this chapter is "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel. Link to the playlist is here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjgjKHy4ofeCrwF-ewB2nx9637Iz1stUa

_In the clearing stands a boxer_

_And a fighter by his trade_

_And he carries the reminders_

_Of ev’ry glove that laid him down_

_And cut him ‘til he cried out_

_In his anger and his shame,_

_“I am leaving, I am leaving”_

_But the fighter still remains…_

 

“ _God, I feel like I’m nine again. Counting down the hours until a new ‘Star Wars’ movie…_ ”

Jess laughed at the text message from Rafael on her phone as she dabbed away the excess lipstick and turned off her bathroom light. “‘Episode 1’ didn’t come out until I was fifteen. Fuck, I hate Jar Jar Binks,” she responded.

“ _Dear lord, I forget that you weren’t even ALIVE when ‘Jedi’ came out._ ”

“Oi, I was a fetus. I was there and didn’t know it.” Scratching Dude behind the ears, she grabbed her purse and teaching bag and headed out the door. One midterm exam stood between her and a late night nerd fest with Raf. Another exam the following day stood between her and two weeks of glorious freedom from work.

“ _What time are you coming over?_ ”

“Probably around six. We should head out not too long after that. I am NOT sitting in the front row of the theater. Question is, do you want to see my ‘who shot first’ underwear before or after the movie?”

 

Proctoring an exam. Joy. She’d wish for death, if death didn’t preclude seeing _Star Wars_ . She yawned and stretched to pop her back before settling back into the biography of Alexander Hamilton she’d ordered from Amazon a few weeks earlier. Enough of her students and the other teachers were raving about the new musical based on the book that she’d caved in, listened to the soundtrack, and bought the book the next day. _Whatever gets kids interested in learning…_ Just as she started a new paragraph about how Thomas Jefferson wanted to get Hamilton out of office (persistent fucker), a knock came on her classroom door and Principal Schwartz poked her head in.

“Can I borrow you for a minute, Miss Bell? There’s someone here to see you.” When the other woman cocked an eyebrow, she stepped into the room. “I’ll watch them.”

Closing the book and setting it down on her desk, she slowly made her way toward the door. Who would be here to see her? Raf was due in court. Her brothers and their significant others had to work… “Detective Carisi?” she questioned, stepping out into the hallway and shutting the door behind her. “Couldn’t wait to see me until the Christmas party next week?”

“Something’s happened. I need you to get your stuff and come with me,” he said in a soft but stern tone.

“That sounds just like Liv’s ‘cop voice’.” Her eyes widened shortly after her friend’s name left her mouth. “Is Liv okay?”

“Lieu’s okay. She sent me, actually. We gotta go.”

“Y-You’re scaring me,” she whispered. “Please…”

“It’s Barba.”

Spinning around, she yanked the door open, gathered her things, and mumbled an apology in the principal’s ear. She jogged back into the hallway. “You can fill me in on the way.”

Sonny Carisi had long legs. He’d always had long legs and a long stride. He was a very gangly teenager until his last growth spurt hit. But he was having trouble keeping up with the pint-sized teacher currently running down the tiled hallway in loud high heels. He hadn’t even told her where he parked. “Slow down! You don’t even know where I parked. And I don’t want to have to tell Barba that I had to carry you because you tripped and broke your ankle in those things.”

Jess stopped and turned back to the tall detective that she barely knew. Her shoulders dropped. “You wouldn’t be pulling me out of a midterm exam at noon on a Thursday if it wasn’t serious.” When he caught up to her, she let him take her large teaching bag full of yarn, papers, and her book. “And for the record, if Ginger Rogers can do everything Fred Astaire can do only backwards and in high heels… I’ll be fine.”

“I’m only runnin’ on one cup of coffee and no food. Give a guy a break, eh Roadrunner?” He breathed a sigh of relief when she mercifully walked the rest of the way to the main entrance of the school. Looking around carefully, he unlocked the squad car (that the Lieutenant finally let him use again) and opened the passenger door for her.

“What happened?” she demanded as he pulled away from the curb. “Where are we going?”

He sighed heavily. “I can’t tell you everything, but we’re going to the hospital. He was shot this morning leaving his building.” When her hand began to tremble, he reached across the armrest and folded his hand over hers. He didn’t think Barba would have a problem with him keeping his girlfriend calm.

“W-What can you tell me?”

“This may be related to a case he was working on. And…”

“Is he safe where he is? I mean, what if someone gets in…”

Once the car was stationary at the next stoplight, he turned to look at her and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “He’s one of the good guys. Every cop in Manhattan that isn’t in the waiting room is out looking for the person that did this. That hospital… The President doesn’t have that many cops around. It’s the safest place in the city at the moment. That’s why the Lieu is having me bring you and Dodds (you haven’t met him yet) bring Barba’s mom there. Just in case.”

“I’ve seen enough cop shows on television to know that you probably have questions for me.”

 _All business this one_. “Did he mention anyone following him the past few days? Any difficulties he was having with the case? Notice anything weird?"

“No. We don’t talk about his work much. So much is classified.”

“Privileged?” he suggested with a smirk.

“Same thing,” she retorted as the Manhattan skyline passed above her.

“Has he gotten any weird calls?”

“I… He got a call a few days ago that he told me was spam. Other than that, I don’t know.” She jerked her hand away and covered her face. “Oh god. Someone’s going to go through his phone. I should _not_ have sent that picture of my boobs!”

Carisi bit back a laugh.

“Some police tech person is going to get a face-full of tits and ass…and the picture I got back.”

He may or may not have accidentally stomped on the brake.

She cleared her throat and looked out her window, realizing that she’d said that out loud when she saw the flush tinting her chauffer’s cheeks. “He’s okay, right?”

“I…I wish I could say he was,” he lamented through a sigh. “The guy, whoever he was, got him three times. He lost a lot of blood. Last I heard he was still in surgery. My mom’s at church lighting a candle.”

Helplessly nodding her understanding, Jess reached back over and took his hand again. “Thanks.”

He led her through to the waiting room once they arrived at the hospital a few minutes later and held her bags when she rushed over to hug Barba’s mom.  

 

After six hours (and as many cups of coffee), Jessica was fidgeting in her chair in the waiting room. Her body was practically vibrating from the caffeine. How her boyfriend drank this much coffee, she’d never know. She’d broken out her yarn and crochet hook…and was so wide-eyed and nervous that she started _and_ finished the hat she’d intended on making for her dad for Christmas in the span of two hours. She thought about joining Lucia and grading papers, but she knew she couldn’t concentrate.

Just as she was desperate enough to go to the App Store and download Candy Crush, she noticed Raf’s mother stand up and walk over to the approaching doctor. She held back from the conversation since she wasn’t family, rising when she turned back around after a few moments. “So how is he?”

She wiped her eyes and hugged Jess. “H-He lost a lot of blood. They pulled a bullet from his thigh, one from his shoulder, and one from his stomach. They’re taking him to a room now.”

Picking up her stuff as well as Lucia’s, she followed her into the elevator and up to Rafael’s room. She’d managed not to cry so far, telling herself that it was for his mom’s benefit more than her own, but she faltered when they got to the room. She sank down into the vinyl chair beside the bed when the tears finally formed at the sight of the large swaths of gauze around his middle and on his shoulder. She watched as Lucia sat down on the bed next to her sleeping son and gently smoothed down his mussed hair and cried softly.

 

“Oh _god_ , pleath killme,” Rafael groaned as he finally came to from the anesthesia.

“Someone tried that earlier today, Counselor,” Carisi retorted, sitting up straighter in the uncomfortable hospital chair. “Well, yesterday now.”

“C’risi.” Using what little strength he had, he let his head fall in the general direction of the voice. “What t-time is it?”

“5:37 am. You’ve been out for a while. Water?”

He nodded weakly. “I swear I heard mymom an’ Jess…” he croaked after taking a drink from the straw the tall detective offered.

“They were here for a while. Left about…” He trailed off and looked down at his Apple Watch. “…two hours ago now. Took some convincing, but Dodds took your mom home, and Jessica’s stayin’ with Liv. Protective details on both of them until we figure out who tried to turn you into a human colander.”

“A-Any leads?”

“Couple possibilities right now, but we’re waiting on ballistics.” When Barba gritted his teeth, he pulled the chair closer to the bed. “Pain? They put a morphine doohickey in here…” At the other man’s nod, he pushed the button on the drip.

Smiling when the pain eased considerably, he went limp in the bed. “Why did it haveta be today?”

“Don’t think there’s ever a good day to get shot.”

“I-I was supposedto see _Shar Warth_ wi’ Jess a m’night,” he slurred as the pain medicine continued to work. “Sh’ got me tickeths for m’birfday.”

Scratching at a non-existent itch on his upper lip, Sonny tried his best to cover up the dumb grin that bloomed on his face. Barba had a date for the _The Force Awakens_ . This day was just a revelation about the uptight prosecutor. He didn’t want to think about the picture Jessica mentioned, but the fact that he was a _Star Wars_ nerd was priceless.

“I have fifty dollarsridin’ on w-who Kylo Ren is.”

That did it. Carisi let out a snort of laughter.

Barba’s eyes slipped closed, but the pout was still there.

 

When he woke up again, he felt a gentle pressure on the hand the I.V. wasn’t hooked into. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, not to mention the fact that he was virtually too weak to move, but if that was Carisi holding his hand…

“Rafi! You’re awake!”

His eyes snapped open at the sound of his mother’s voice, flinching when both of her hands cupped his face. If her hands were on his face who was… When she kissed him and pulled away, he looked down and sighed in relief. Someone was holding his hand, but it wasn’t Carisi. It was Jess. She’d fallen asleep in the chair, resting her head on the bed beside his uninjured right thigh. With all the strength he could muster, he squeezed his girlfriend’s hand.

“I had to threaten her to get her to leave you at about three this morning,” Lucia whispered. “I half expected her to come back this morning with an air mattress.”

Despite being in pain, he smiled softly. “How long h-have you two been here?”

“It’s eleven in the morning now… I got here twenty minutes ago, and she’s been like this the whole time. Benson said Jess woke her up and made her bring her here at seven. Apparently, she called in a favor and got someone to cover for her at school. She loves you.”

“And _god_ , I love her.”

Sitting down on the other side of the bed from Jess carefully (to avoid touching his thigh), she looked down at him with a knowing smile.  “I don’t say this lightly, and you know it. Rafi, if you _don’t_ put a ring on her finger, I’ll be disappointed. She drank enough coffee yesterday to put you to _shame_ because she refused to even nod off for a second before you woke up.”

He reached over and pressed the button on the morphine dispenser. “Don’t t-think I haven’t thought about it, but mamí, it hasn’t even been a year…”

“I’m not saying tomorrow, baby.”

Mother and son both froze when Jessica groaned, lifted her head, and wiped at her (for once) makeupless eyes.

She blinked several times slowly before realizing that Rafael was finally awake. When her brain and eyes finally connected, she lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “Mornin’, sunshine,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion and gruff from sleep.

“Hey, you.”

Rising from the bed, Lucia patted her son’s hand. She walked around to Jess and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll give you two a few minutes. I have got to find something to eat.” With a small wave, she left the room and shut the door behind her.

“I’m seriously returning your Christmas gift and getting you a bulletproof body suit instead.” Jess bit her lip in a shoddy attempt to suppress a sob. “I had to give our _Star Wars_ tickets to John. They were grateful for the impromptu date night.” She motioned for him to scoot over in the narrow bed. Pushing herself up onto the shitty bed, she rested her head on the pillow by his bandaged right shoulder. “You scared me, Raf.”

“I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? It’s the shitbag that shot you that I’m mad at.” She winced and rubbed at her abdomen. “I honestly have no idea how you drink as much coffee as you do. I think my stomach lining eroded. That, and I shook for hours.”

“I’m immune.”

“Or you’re like part coffee bean. Pretty sure it’s like edited your DNA at this point.” 

* * *

 

 

“What’s wrong with the sofa?” Rafael protested three days later, grabbing the wheels of the wheelchair and halting its progress toward Jessica’s bedroom. “I’ve been in a bed for days.” He shot pleading glances to both his mother and his girlfriend.

“Are you going to be  grumpy like you usually are when you’re sick?” Lucia jabbed. When he rolled his eyes, she grinned. “Just pray he doesn’t get the flu again. Last time, he turned into the biggest baby…”

“Are we seriously going to do this now?”

“Lighten up,” Lucia and Jess chided in unison. Both laughed afterwards.

“I don’t know what happened between the two of you while I was unconscious, but this camaraderie is making me nervous.” Rising from the wheelchair with help from his mom, he hobbled over to the sofa and sat down carefully. Exhaling audibly, he let his head rest against the back cushion and closed his eyes. He popped out the footrest and reclined. He smiled when a second weight joined his left arm on the armrest and a familiar sandpaper tongue began to lick his hand. “Hello to you, too.”

“Do you need anything else from me? If not, I’m going home and crashing.”

“Mamí, I think we’re fine. You’ve had a long couple of days.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “You both have.”

“If you  need me, call me. Either of you.”

“We will,” Jess promised, stepping over and hugging her. Shutting the door behind the older woman, she grabbed her laptop and dropped back down on the sofa next to Rafael. “I’ve got something for you.”

“I don’t know if I’m up for surprises.”

She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “This one you will be up for.” Clicking on a folder on the desktop ominously marked “7”, she clicked the video file inside.

His brows knitted together in confusion when the words “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…” popped up on the grainy video file. She owned all the movies on blu-ray, so why were they watching such a shitty... He paused the playback when the words “Episode VII: The Force Awakens” began to scroll over the starry background. “Jessica…” he began in a warning tone.

“Don’t ask where I got it, because I’m not telling you. Besides, we paid for two tickets that we didn’t use. I figure we’re entitled. When you feel well enough to go out, we’ll go see it again.”

“Do you have any idea how many laws you broke?”

“I didn’t break any. J. J. Abrams left it on my doorstep.”

“Bullshit.”

“Who gives a fuck? Plausible deniability or something like that. If you keep bitching, I’ll make you go stay with your mom in her third story walk-up for the rest of your convalescence instead of my elevator building.” When he balked, she grinned and hit play. “Now turn off Mister Badass Lawyer and watch the damn movie.”

“I love you, you little pirate.”

“Of course you do. And I love you too.”


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned previously, this chapter has major spoilers for "Star Wars: The Force Awakens" because I am a nerd. You have been warned.
> 
> The song for this chapter is Slade's "Merry Christmas Everybody". Playlist is here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjgjKHy4ofeCrwF-ewB2nx9637Iz1stUa
> 
> Meant to get this chapter up closer to Christmas, but life got in the way. So have some belated Christmas feels.

**Chapter Twelve**

 

_ Are you hanging up a stocking on your wall _

_ It’s the time that every Santa has a ball _

_ Does he ride a red-nose reindeer _

_ Does a ton-up on his sleigh _

_ Do the fairies keep him sober for a day? _

_ So here it is, Merry Christmas _

_ Everybody’s having fun _

_ Look to the future now _

_ It’s only just begun... _

 

**Thursday, December 24, 2015**

 

“Are we expecting anyone?” Rafael asked, looking up from the case file in his lap at the sound of a knock on the door. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to work on Christmas Eve, but this is clearly a day of surprises,” Jess muttered. She put her powder brush down on the bathroom counter and jogged to answer the door. “He’s on the couch, Sonny.”

He sighed when his girlfriend disappeared back into the bathroom to finish her makeup. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it could have waited, Detective.”

“Be nice, old man,” she scolded, pulling her favorite tube of red lipstick from the lipstick rack and carefully applying it. “He’s got a gift bag full of cannolis, going by the smell of it.”

“You ruined the surprise!” Carisi whined before gently setting the bag on top of the case file. 

Pulling the pastries from the bag, he paused when his fingers hit something else. He lowered the cannolis back down and pulled the second item out of the bag. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he saw the title of the book he’d found:  Star Wars and Philosophy . 

He sat down next to Barba on the couch. “So have you seen the new one yet? Oh my  _ god _ it’s awesome.”

“You’ve had time to see it? I was under the impression that Liv had the whole squad working ‘round the clock…”

“That’s part of the reason I’m here,” Carisi admitted, conveniently dodging the question. He grabbed his phone and brought up a picture. “This is the guy that shot you. We’re still working on finding out who he works for. Ever seen him hanging around?”

He shook his head and shrugged. “Can’t say that I have. So when did you have time to see  _ Star Wars _ ?”

Blessedly for Carisi, Jess skipped back into the living room, grabbed her phone and keys, and kissed the corner of Barba’s mouth. “I’m going downstairs to watch Noah for a bit while Liv wraps his presents. Y’all have fun. Oh, and there's beer in the fridge, Sonny.”

_ Sonny _ ? 

The tall detective looked down awkwardly at his shoes until his mentor’s girlfriend left the apartment. 

“So back to my question.”

“I… I’ve been watchin’ it here and there on my phone.”

“You should know better, Fordham Law,” Rafael chided. 

“It’s not like I downloaded it. Your girlfriend sent me a copy.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course she did.”

“Don’t be mad at her, Counselor. She just wanted to be nice.” When the older attorney simply adjusted the sling holding his right shoulder in place in response, he poked Barba in the other arm. “I know she showed you. What’d ya think?”

“That I lost fifty bucks,” he offered reluctantly. “Thought for sure Kylo Ren was Luke’s kid. But somehow, she guessed he was Leia’s kid  _ and _ that he’d kill Han.”

“I’m askin’ her for next week’s lotto numbers, damn. So, I’m thinking Rey is Obi-Wan’s daughter or granddaughter. Or something. I mean, she kept her accent…”

“I can see that, especially given that the Jedi Council collapsed, meaning that Obi Wan wasn’t necessarily bound to uphold the Jedi Code. He could have had a family.” 

Carisi smiled so hard it hurt. Never in a million years did he think he’d be having a conversation like this with Barba. Ever.

Rafael turned as much as he could without causing pain and shot the other man a pointed look. “And since when does  _ my _ girlfriend call you Sonny?”

He swallowed hard, but kept his composure. Last thing he wanted was the A.D.A. that he was  _ finally _ getting in good with thinking he was out to steal his woman. “Didn't feel right to have her keep calling me ‘detective’ while I sat with her and your mom while you were in surgery and sedated.”

_ Damn.  _ “Sorry. I shouldn't have…”

He waved, cutting Barba off. “Nah, I get it. Nobody else does, so it's a little weird that she, of all people, does.”

“Thank you, Sonny, for everything.” The name felt foreign on his tongue, but he was covered in bandages and wearing pajamas in his girlfriend’s apartment. “Carisi” and “Detective” felt out of place. 

“Just doin’ my job, Counselor.”

“Bringing me cannolis and a book on Christmas Eve isn't in your job description.” He sighed at the thought of his next words. But it was the right thing to say. And it was Christmas. He'd probably regret this… “We’re both off the clock, and I'm in sweatpants. It's Rafael.”

Sonny grinned. “I'm gonna get one of those beers she mentioned,  _ Rafael _ . You want anything while I'm up?”

He should say no...but it was four in the afternoon on Christmas Eve. Fuck it. He’d been shot and deserved a treat. “There’s some scotch in the cabinet by the fridge. The rocks glasses are in the cabinet to the left of the Keurig.”

“Ice or no?”

“No.” He relaxed back into the sofa at the sounds of glasses clinking and cabinet doors opening. Grabbing the remote, he turned on Jessica’s television and began to channel surf. With a smile, he settled on the channel showing a marathon of all the  _ Die Hard _ movies. His girlfriend was missing her favorite Christmas film. “Now I have a machine gun. Ho ho ho,” he imitated as Sonny rounded the corner and handed him the more than ample glass of scotch. “Are you bringing me a drink or trying to sedate an elephant?”

“After the week you’ve had, I figured you needed a double.” He dropped down onto the other end of the couch. “Waited tables to get through college. I know what a double scotch looks like at this point.”

Rafael rubbed at the corner of his eye. Just how much of this did Olivia know before she set him up with Jess? His girlfriend and his colleague-stroke-shadow both bartended their way through college. “I’d ask why you thought you could insert yourself into this apartment...but the fact that Jess told you there was beer tells me just to not to ask.”

“Hey, she wanted you to have some diverse company.” Twisting the cap off of the cheap, domestic beer, he set the small metal circle on the coffee table and turned his attention back to Barba. “How’re you holding up? She taking care of you?”

“My morning commute has shortened to the distance between the bed and this couch. I have to have help getting in and out of the shower. I’m never alone. I keep oscillating between feeling like a toddler and a senior citizen. I’m going stir-crazy. But yes, she’s taking care of me. Better care than I deserve,” he vented after downing a good portion of the scotch. “As always, she’s the saint to my sinner.” He looked down at his glass with a sigh. “Can I tell you something and trust that the rest of the world won’t know the minute you leave?”

Sonny kicked off his shoes and crossed his legs under him while intentionally looking hurt. He knew he was loud, but… “Won’t tell a soul.”

“All of those annoyances I can deal with. I can even deal with the pain,” Rafael continued with a heavy sigh. “What I can’t deal with are the looks in their eyes, my mom and Jess. They’re afraid. They’ve both put security systems in.” He gestured toward the newly-installed keypad next to the front door. “They look at me and they’re scared. They’re scared for themselves and scared for me. That guy, whoever he is and whoever he works for, can try to fuck with me all he wants. The  _ minute _ that the two women I love most in the world start holding me a little closer, hide behind security systems, and arm themselves with Louisville Sluggers is the minute he forfeits the right to breathe.”

Sonny simply nodded in agreement, unsure of exactly what to say. “We’re workin’ on it.”

“I know you are. I do. I… I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. And sidelined. And I hate it.”

“I would, too. But hey,” he offered after another swig of beer. “Look on the bright side. You can hit on your nurse, and your girlfriend can’t get mad.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Rafael’s mouth. 

 

Jess opened her apartment door and poked her head in about an hour later. Sonny had successfully kept Rafael occupied. The two colleagues were lounging on the old leather sofa watching  _ Die Hard _ . With a grin, she motioned for Liv, Fin, Dodds, and a not-pregnant Rollins to come in behind her. 

“Wow, you two are actually getting along,” Rollins observed, handing her one month old son to her hostess. “Just how much have you had to drink, Counselor?”

Rafael stiffened and sat up straighter in his perch at the sound of the detective’s Southern drawl...and was on the verge of full-blown panic when the rest of the squad (including Dodds, who he barely knew) stepped into the living room holding various party foods and beverages. “What…” He turned to Carisi. “Were you in on this?”

“Guilty.”

Liv smiled warmly. “Since you couldn’t come to the party, we brought it to you.” Did the “Grand Jury incident” still rub her wrong? Of course it did. But before their disagreement, they were friends. She’d introduced him to one of the people closest to her heart in the hopes that they’d be good together. And seven months later, one friend was taking care of the other...willingly. So maybe she was here more for Jess than Rafael, but it didn’t matter. Someone tried to kill her friend. Her squad was on the case, but the persistent look in Jessica’s eyes reminded her why she couldn’t quit. She carefully lowered Noah to the floor and chuckled when he made a beeline for her wounded friend. 

Jess crossed the room with Baby Rollins cradled in her arms and sat down next to her better half. Taking the offered glass of white wine from Fin, the temporary bartender in her kitchen, she took a sip and put the glass on the coffee table. 

If Rafael thought his girlfriend looked at home with Noah in her arms when they babysat him two months earlier, he had to admit that she was positively glowing as she held Rollins’ newborn daughter in the white light from the Christmas tree that was too big for her apartment. 

Olivia grinned at the combined sight of Noah begging Barba to pick him up and Barba ignoring the toddler in favor of staring at Jess. Good to know that if her career at N.Y.P.D. didn’t pan out, she could always fall back on being a matchmaker...maybe. 

When she let the baby grip her finger, he finally used his good arm and lifted Noah onto the sofa beside him. He swallowed hard while he stared at her doting on the newborn while the shadows of various nerdy ornaments danced behind her. 

“You’re not mad, are you?” Jessica inquired just as she relocated Rollins’ baby so that her small forehead rested against her neck. Reaching across to the table, she muted the television and pressed play on her stereo remote. “I mean, I’d hate for you to be…”

“No,” he sighed. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he sighed and let himself get lost in the pre-Britpop Christmas song. “Thank you.” When she got up to hand the now-sniffling Rollins back to her mother, Rafael stood up with the help of the cane he hated and shuffled toward the kitchen. 

“That’s one way to get around the ‘wanna move in with me’ conversation,” Olivia observed with an impish grin, very well aware of the fact that her colleague had been staring at Jess holding two different children. 

“I would rather have that conversation than be stuck using this cane.” He popped one of the sausage balls someone brought into his mouth.

“At least you’re up and walking?” When he nodded, she poured a refill into her wine glass and gestured for him to come back out to the living room with her. 

Jess put Noah down on the floor and stood up to gently help Rafael back into his spot on the sofa. 

Fin picked up a carefully stashed box and handed it to the A.D.A., mindful not to not set it on his bad leg. “We pitched in and got you something, Counselor.”

“I don’t know anything about this,” Jess laughed, raising her hands in innocence. She watched her other half tear away at the festive wrapping paper of the rather wide box so gently that it was starting to get awkward. She let out an audible sigh when he  _ finally _ stripped the paper away and was lifting the lid. 

He chuckled when he pulled a bulletproof vest out of the box...and barked out a loud laugh when he flipped it over to discover a patch across the front with “LAWYER DO NOT SHOOT” printed on it. “Nice.”

 

Jess hummed her contentment and rested her head in the center of Rafael’s chest once everyone had left a few hours later. 

“Any more surprises for me?”

“Nah. Just your mom and my parents stopping by tomorrow.”

He tilted his head down and kissed the top of her head. “Those I can deal with.”

“Do you want to open your presents from me now or tomorrow?” she mumbled, breathing in the scent of his cologne. 

“Now that everyone’s gone and more people coming tomorrow, is it bad that I want tonight to be about us?”

“Nope.” She hopped up off the sofa faster than a five year old on Christmas morning and produced a package from beneath the tree. 

“There are two boxes for you under there, you know.” He ran his fingers along the seam of the wrapping paper on the box she’d handed him. 

“Then I’m leaving one for my birthday.”

“...in February? No. I had help wrapping both of them in Christmas paper. Now, you first.”

“Raf...I can’t. Whatever it is, it’s too much…”

“I’d get all authoritative, but I can barely walk.”

Jessica reluctantly fished the two boxes, one tall and rectangular and one thin and short, out from under the tree full of pop culture ornaments. 

“Open the tall one first,” he instructed with a smile. 

She glared at him, but what was she going to do, thump him? He was injured. Peeling the wrapping away enough to access the top of the box, she tipped it upside down...and was rewarded with the yarn swift she’d mentioned once upon a time and a beautiful ball of pink and purple striped sock yarn. “So I never have to use your arms again.”

He shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t part of it.”

“Alright, hot shot, open.” She gestured toward the box in his lap. “I know that yours is burned beyond use,” Jess offered when he pulled a new moka pot from the box. “And I happen to like your café Cubano.”

Upon the realization that there was something else in the box, he tugged at the second object. He pulled it out, immediately realizing it was a large, black coffee cup. Stopping cold when he caught sight of the hand-painted inscription, his expression almost faltered.

_ “As our heart summons our strength, our wisdom must direct it. _ _   
_ _ \-- Dwight D. Eisenhower _

“I told you once upon a time that I read  _ a lot _ ,” she choked out when he looked from the coffee cup to her. “And I’ve...I don’t know. I remembered that quote when you were in the hospital, and well, the art teacher owed me. She made it, and I painted it. Put it in the dishwasher, and I’ll kill you.”

“Understood.” His fingers idly stroked his new favorite coffee cup as he watched her open the other gift. He rolled his eyes when she took the bow and flicked it across the room...and Dude immediately began batting it around the apartment.

“Oh Jesus. S-Shit…” Jess stuttered once the wrapping paper was off the second box from Rafael. It was a bracelet box. “I  _ really _ can’t take this…”

“Yes you can.” He shoved her hands away when she tried to give it back to him. “You’re letting me stay here. You’re refusing to let me help you pay for anything. You’re taking care of me. You’re doing all that out of the goodness of your heart. So I thought all that warranted a little more than something you would have bought yourself eventually.”

“But your mom’s helped…”

“Got her something extra, too.” He nudged her arm. “Open it.” He knew he’d hit the ball out of the park with the bracelet when his mom fawned over it before wrapping it, but when it actually took his girlfriend’s breath away? Yeah. 

Pushing herself up off the floor, she climbed back onto the couch beside him. She fingered the silver chain of the bracelet and smiled softly at the charms strung along it. There was the little silver cat (Dude, obviously) and the bejeweled apple (for being a teacher). There was the chef hat and the double decker bus with the Union Jack flag on the roof (for that time that she went on for  _ hours _ about her semester abroad in London). The little baseball with the Rangers logo on it caused a chuckle. Rafael wasn’t a baseball fan, and the thought of him choosing between the various baseball-themed Pandora charms made her chuckle. The textbook charm was a nice touch. Jess stopped at the last charm -- a simple silver heart with the words “I love you” etched into it. It was one thing to hear him say the words, but another entirely for it to be out there for all the world to see.

Rafael reached across her and freed one edge of the bracelet chain from the box. “Help me with the other side? I’ve only got one good arm, and it’s not my dominant one.”

Wordlessly, she slid the other end out of its binding and held it still while he fastened it around her left wrist. Leaning against him gently, she kissed him softly. Jess stood up and offered her hand to help him up after he yawned. “C’mon. Let’s get those bandages changed while you’re still conscious,” she prodded, voice thick with emotion. Once standing, she led him to the bathroom. 

She stopped him when he began fiddling with the clasp on the sling. “Let me.” After removing the sling, she stood in front of him and slowly tugged his tee shirt over his head. Carefully, to avoid tugging on the stitches, she peeled away the bandage on the front of his right shoulder and pressed a kiss to the entrance wound. She repeated the process on the exit wound on the back of his shoulder, stomach, and thigh. “After tomorrow, we won’t have to put the bandages back on, and you won’t need me anymore,” she whispered. 

“Jess, I…”

“I’m kidding,” she dismissed with a sad smile. “But you’re on your way to being well enough to go back to your apartment where Dude can’t sleep on your head.”

This was most definitely not how he wanted to do this...but now was as good a time as any. “I’m only going back to that apartment to pack. I put it on the market yesterday.”

She dropped the tube of Neosporin she’d been holding. “I… You did  _ what _ ?”

“I can’t stay there. Someone tried to kill me there, remember?”

“I prefer to think of it as ‘someone gave you the perfect start to your rap career there’, but how could I forget?” Kneeling down, she picked up the ointment tube and resumed her work dressing the exit wound on the back of his shoulder. “Do you have a new place lined up or…”

“Not yet.” He craned his neck to look behind him when she hummed. “Something you want to add?”

Jess gave a noncommittal shrug in response. “You could always stay here, you know. I happen to like having you around. You and your king sized bed.”

“So I’m being used for my furniture?”

“Of course. Did you think I asked you to move in because I actually love you?” she sassed, rolling her eyes. Finishing her ministrations, she moved to stand in front of him again. “So what d’you say?”


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because we've all (or most of us) presumably been watching this season, I'm not going to get into every single episode. That'd make for one hell of a tedious story that goes over a lot of ground that we've already covered.
> 
> THAT BEING SAID, this chapter makes mention of the aftermath of the events of "Townhouse Incident", so if you haven't seen that one...well, it's not a major spoiler. 
> 
> I apologize again for the lack of smut. I promise it'll come back. 
> 
> The next part of the story (after this chapter) will deal with who shot Barba, a case that I've had pretty much written since before I started this story, and a little tidbit of information that Jess hasn't told Rafael. It's not my fault that a recent episode I haven't touched on has a lot in common with the case I had written. When we get to that part, I'll tell you which episode and tell you how I make a few end runs around canon this season to squeeze it in. SVU WRITER'S ROOM GET OUT OF MY HEAD. 
> 
> Also, it's my personal headcanon because they never say the name of the D.A. that Jack McCoy is still D.A.. I'm not even sorry.
> 
> Sorry. Okay. Onto business. The song for this chapter is "Hope for the Future" by Paul McCartney. 
> 
> I'm publishing this chapter from my iPad that I got for Christmas. If there are any formatting errors that I missed, please don't hesitate to let me know.

 

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Hope shines brightest in the dark_  
_Where nothing’s ever seen_  
_Lighting undiscovered places_  
_No-one’s ever been_  
_Hope for the future..._

**Two weeks later…**

“You do not have to do this. I’m going to work, not to my first day of kindergarten,” Rafael protested as Jess played keepaway with his briefcase in the hallway at Hogan Place.  
  
“I know I don’t have to. I want to. And it’s your first day back.”  
  
“You have your own job to go to.”  
  
“I have a free period first this semester.” Moving to stand in front of him, she put a hand on his chest to stop him. “I know you’re a stone cold badass with your pimp cane there, but…” She sighed and absentmindedly fingered the leather handle in her hand. “Just let me do this? Please? Let me walk you to your office so I know you actually got there this time?”  
  
With a nod, he slipped his free hand into hers and continued down the hallway. Reluctantly, he let her open his office door for him and turn on the light. He rolled his eyes at several large vases of flowers and a stack of cards on the center table in the middle of the room.  
  
She dropped his briefcase on his desk and and began fussing with his temperamental coffee maker.  
  
“ _Cariño_ , leave it. I can make my own coffee.”  
  
“Shut up and let me make the coffee, Rafael.”  
  
Realizing this was an argument he most certainly was not going to win, he set his cane down next to his desk. He leaned his good hip up against the side and slid off his tan overcoat. Easing himself into his new desk chair, he turned on his laptop as the coffee began to gurgle. From the corner of his eye, he watched Jess hang his coat on the rack by the door.  
  
“You didn’t have to come back today, you know,” she commented. Kneeling down beside his chair, she straightened his maroon and pink patterned tie. “If you’re in pain…”  
  
“What was I going to do, sit around and watch _more_ Netflix?”  
  
“Well, we _are_ two episodes away from finishing season five of _Mad Men_ …”  
  
He closed his hand over hers and ran his fingers over her knuckles. “Here I can at least do _something_.”  
  
“I know. I know. I… I’m sorry.” She stood up quickly and resumed her work with the coffee pot.  
  
His eyes shot up from the computer screen when a knock came on the door.  
  
“Am I interrupting?” The tall, white-haired man waved his hand when Barba tried to stand. “It’s just me.”  
  
Jess picked up the coffee cup she’d prepared for Rafael and turned to the newcomer to the room. She smiled warmly at the wizened face of Jack McCoy. She’d seen his face on the news more times than she could remember.  
  
“Jess, this is…”  
  
“Jack McCoy,” she finished, crossing the room and shaking the District Attorney’s hand. “I’ve seen you on television over the years.” Setting the coffee cup down gently beside the laptop, she shook her head. “Sorry. Where are my manners? I’m Jessica Bell. I’m…”  
  
The older man smiled, sensing her nervousness.  
  
“I should go,” Jess remarked.  
  
“No need,” Jack dismissed, reaching down to shake Rafael’s hand. “I just came down to say that it’s good to have you back, Mister Barba.”  
  
“That was unexpected,” Rafael breathed once the District Attorney was out of earshot.  
  
“I figured The Man Himself would come see you at some point today, honestly. Just didn’t think it’d be before you had your third cup of coffee.” When he finished stirring the sugar and creamer into his coffee to his satisfaction, she took his spoon and put it back next to the coffee maker. “I meant to ask you last night, but is Liv any closer to finding out who hired the guy that shot you? I’d really like to not have Rodney come to dinner with us anymore.”  
  
“I’m the victim. I can’t prosecute my own shooter,” he sighed. “I don’t have the information I normally would. She showed me a few more pictures last week while you were out, but other than that, I don’t know.”  
  
She shrugged. “Just thought I’d ask. Now,” she began, rounding his desk and kneeling beside his chair “I really do need to get to work. But I want you to promise me that if you need anything, you’ll tell someone. Carmen, your mom, or me, okay?” When he looked down at her out of the corner of his eye, she playfully swatted his good arm. “Don’t look at me like that.”  
  
“Alright.”  
  
“That’s better.” She stood up and kissed him softly. “I love you.”  
  
“I love you too,” he returned, squeezing her hand in a silent “thank you”.  
  
Jess returned the gesture with a grin. “I’ll leave you to your big badass lawyer thing.”  
  


Mercifully, he’d managed to convince her that he could get home on his own. Rafael smiled as he fingered the powder blue key to Jess’s...no, _their_ apartment. Stepping off the elevator on _their_ floor, he hobbled down the hallway to _their_ door with Keith, his shadow for the day at work, in tow.  
  
He’d be the first to admit that he was more than skeptical when Liv introduced them at Noah’s party. He was half-tempted to check his friend’s cabinets for mind-altering drugs when she mentioned that his mystery date was nine years his junior.  
  
Sliding the key into the lock, he chuckled and shook his head. Eight months later, he’d moved into her apartment (albeit out of a medical necessity at first). He was in love with her. When he thought about life without her now, it was as if someone turned out the one light in the room.  
  
Turning the key in the lock, he pushed open the door. His eyes rolled back in his head when he opened the door and was met with...a smell very much akin to his favorite Italian restaurant.  
  
Jessica scampered out of the kitchen to meet her significant other at the door. “Your first day back and you don’t get home until seven?”  
  
“It’s what happens when you’ve been out for a while.”  
  
She took his briefcase and tossed it into the small side area of the entranceway. “Fine. But now you’re home, and you’re all mine.” Walking around behind him, she pulled off his overcoat and carefully hung it up.  
  
“What is that enticing aroma?” He inquired, loosening his tie as he headed past the kitchen toward the spare bedroom / office / his closet. The thought of his walk-in closet back at his former apartment made him frown a bit, but having someone to come home to trumped a large enough closet by a mile. _Something I never thought I’d say in a million years_. Changing into an old Harvard hoodie and grey sweatpants, he padded back into the kitchen. “This may be the messiest I’ve ever seen this kitchen.”  
  
“Is that any way to talk to your girlfriend that raced home to make marinara sauce for you from scratch?” Jess huffed with mock offense. “The only way to serve ravioli made from scratch is to make the sauce that way, too.”  
  
He’d been about to dip a finger in the sauce staying warm on the stove, but stopped. “Just when did you get home?”  
  
She grinned until her face began to hurt. “I may or may not have cancelled extra help for the day, so...four?”  
  
“ _Dios mio_ ,” he whispered. “And you’ve been cooking the whole time?”  
  
“Well, not the _whole_ time. I fed Dude and started the laundry before I started cooking.”  
  
“W-Why?”  
  
“Why start the laundry? The hamper was full. And well, I kind of have to feed Dude.” When he glared at her, she nodded and pulled out a bottle of Merlot with two glasses. “Well, if you want the list of reasons… I wanted to. I wanted to use a cookbook I don’t use often. I like cooking. I like cooking _for you_.” She poured the wine and handed him a glass. “And I thought your first day back warranted something special,” she finished, running a finger along the outline of his bicep muscle.  
  
“I...I don’t know what to say.”  
  
“That you’ll help with the dishes?”  
  
Rafael chuckled and pulled her in for a kiss.  
  
“And maybe ‘Jessica, you’re a domestic goddess. I love you. And we weren’t talking about it, but of course I’ll go with you when your class goes to see “Cymbeline” next month.’?”  
  
“Jessica, you’re a domestic goddess. I love you,” he repeated, punctuating each sentence with kisses. “And we weren’t talking about it, but _maybe_ I’ll go with you when your class goes to see ‘Cymbeline’ next month.”  
  
“Can’t say I didn’t try.”

* * *

“ _Come down to Liv’s apartment when you get off_.”  
  
Jess re-read the text from Rafael in the elevator several days later. He’d sent it several hours earlier and hadn’t responded when she asked for clarification. She stepped out of the car on Olivia’s floor. “ _I’m on her floor now_ ,” she replied. Cocking an eyebrow when her boyfriend stepped out of her friend’s apartment with his coat slung over his arm, she approached him. “Raf, what’s…”  
  
He took her hand in his and quickly explained the events of the day. He inserted reassuring gestures when she tensed. “She wouldn’t stay at the hospital.”  
  
“Is she okay? If I need to Vulcan nerve pinch her back to the hospital…”  
  
“I don’t think you need to do that, but…” He touched his forehead to hers. “She definitely needs a friendly face that has nothing to do with work for a little bit.”  
  
Jess nodded, averting her eyes from his. “I’ll be up in a little while.”  
  
“Take your time. I know where you keep the leftovers.”  
  
Parting with a kiss, Jess gently pushed open Olivia's front door. She managed to muffle a sob at the sight of her friend holding her son tightly in the middle of the living room.  
  
“Jess, what’re you…”  
  
“Raf told me. I…” The younger woman crossed the room and wrapped her arms around both mother and son. “I’m seriously considering wrapping you and Rafael both in bubble wrap and locking you in a closet.”  
  
Both women laughed over tears. Noah pushed away from his mother and made grabby hands so Jess would take him.  
  
She stared at the toddler after balancing him on her hip. “If you don’t think I’m serious, little man, I have actually priced bubble wrap at the UPS Store by the yard.” Looking back at her friend, she smiled apologetically. “Raf wanted me to come by as a ‘non-work’ friend.”  
  
“So you haven’t told him.”  
  
“He knows that she’s dead,” Jess admitted reluctantly. “The rest isn’t easy to bring up in conversation, especially with his job. That’s why I haven’t told him all of it.”  
  
Olivia put an arm around her friend. “I know. That anniversary’s coming up soon, isn't it?”  
  
“Six years next month.”  
  
“That’d be a good time…”  
  
She nodded. “I know. That’s my plan.”

* * *

**Friday January 22, 2016**

Barba strode into the precinct, finally free of the dreaded cane. He walked past Carisi’s desk...only to back up and peer over the detective’s shoulder at the sight of the shambolic state of what he could only assume were law school notes stuffed into a textbook? “Please don’t tell me that you store all your class notes like that,” he winced.  
  
Sonny Carisi whipped his head around. He’d have to get used to Barba not needing the cane anymore. After all, he’d been used to hearing it tap on the tiled floor. “Not all of ‘em, no.”  
  
He rolled his eyes. “Lemme guess, the rest are stuck in Walter Briggs books?” At the detective’s “oh please” expression, he waved him away. “I kid. Have you started studying for the Bar yet?”  
  
“Not yet. I’m gonna start compiling notes this weekend.”  
  
He held up a finger when he heard Liv calling his name from her office. “What are you doing Sunday?”  
  
“Having lunch with my family on Staten Island like every Sunday. Why?”  
  
“Come to Jess’s apartment when you’re done. Text me before you come.”  
  
  


“Thanks for doing this, Counselor,” Carisi said two days later, stepping around Barba and into the apartment.  
  
“It’s the least I can do.” Rafael walked slowly toward the plush sofa from his apartment and sat down. He motioned for the detective to join him and bring the large file box from the pass-through. “I owe you for helping Jess out while I was…incapacitated, but I knew you needed help when I saw the state of your ‘notes’.”  
  
Sonny opened his mouth to defend his filing system again, until he opened the box and found…a table of contents. Dated 1999. With Barba’s name on it. And Post-It notes hanging off the corners of various pages notating cross-references. “I…”  
  
“If you’re going to be anything close to a competent attorney, which I know you definitely can be, you cannot be disorganized.” He laughed softly. “Well, not at work.”  
  
“I can’t see you being disorganized.”  
  
“Me? No. Jess is convinced I’m obsessive-compulsive about organization. I got cabin fever and tried to re-arrange her bookshelves while she was gone one day. Whatever the hell her filing system is, screwing that up is tantamount to treason.”  
  
Bringing the box back to the sofa, a light went off in Sonny’s mind. This wasn’t the same sofa that was here back at Christmas. Neither were the shelves along the long wall of the apartment or the half shelf of law journals. “Moving in. Big step. Planning on making an honest woman of her?”  
  
“Easy there, Mom,” Rafael warned. “One step at a time. You’re here to learn, not to give me relationship advice.”  
  
  
  
Several hours later, the front door opened again. Jess stepped inside with an arm load of grocery bags.  
  
Sonny, knowing her significant other still wasn’t the quickest at getting around, caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, jumped up from the sofa, and jogged to her aid. “Need some help?”  
  
“If you’re offering,” she admitted, foisting two of the four canvas bags off on him. “How’s the studying going?”  
  
“Great!” He took the two grocery bags into the kitchen and set them next to the fridge. He couldn’t help but grin when she dropped her purse in the middle of the living room floor and gave his mentor a lingering kiss.  
  
“How are your parents?” Rafael inquired tiredly.  
  
“Still my parents. Gregg’s wife’s pregnant. And for the first time in almost twelve years my mom kicked me under the table so hard she left a bruise.”  
  
“Oh god,” he moaned, remembering her account of the other time vividly. “What the hell did you do?”  
  
“Well, she’s pregnant again less than a year after their last kid. I may or may not have said something under my breath to John like ‘thank god for I.U.D.’s’.”  
  
Sonny could feel the tips of his ears turning red. In the past month he’d become friendly with both Rafael and Jessica. He’d been to the apartment on Christmas Eve. He’d even seen her kiss him at the precinct several months prior. But this conversation was quickly slipping into the “should I be hearing this” category right next to one’s parents having sex or hearing about a sister’s boyfriend.  
  
Turning her attention back to the lawyer-in-training in her kitchen, she tried to wave him away. “You need to study,” she admonished, shooing him away from the grocery bags. “I’m about to start cooking, and there will be plenty of leftovers. Why don’t you stay for dinner?”  
  
“He should probably go study at home…”  
  
“Rafael Barba…” she warned as she opened the bottle of white wine from one of the bags for her recipe and poured a glass.  
  
The A.D.A. and detective locked eyes as she measured out some chicken broth into a large pan on the stove.  
  
Sonny scratched his head and looked away as if to say that he didn’t know anything about what just happened. Or that she’d gone full name on Barba...and he’d stopped cold.  
  
“You’ve forgotten the first rule of big families.”  
  
“There’s always room for one more,” Rafael and Jess said at the same time.  
  
“You’re learning,” she acknowledged before producing a cutting board and knife. “Besides, he needs brain food. Carry on with the legal studies.” She produced a container of mushrooms from one of the grocery bags and set to slicing them up. Smiling, Jess put a pan on another stove eye to pre-heat as she measured out some butter. She didn’t understand a damn word of what was going on in her living room, but as it was the most animated she’d seen Rafael since the shooting, she elected not to interrupt. Her boyfriend was in his element, and she couldn’t be happier.  
  
Periodically sniffing her wrist to inhale the scent of her perfume instead of onions she needed to chop, she eventually got the diced onion into the pan. When Sonny had a question or offered a wrong answer, she would crane her head toward the living room and listen for Rafael’s explanation.  
  
Liv told her over drinks before Noah’s party the previous year all about how the skinny, Italian detective would try to apply his law classes to a case (usually in an effort to impress the snarky, Cuban A.D.A.) She’d also mentioned how annoyed the A.D.A. would get over it. But there wasn’t a trace of annoyance on Rafael’s face as he and Sonny talked.  
  
Jess fished her phone out of her back pocket, put it on silent, and texted a picture of the scene in front of her to Olivia with a comment: “ _If you think I’m not making a cake when he passes the Bar that says ‘Now I am the master’, you’re wrong_.”

 


	15. Chapter Fourteen

** Chapter Fourteen **

_I’m only one call away_  
I’ll be there to save the day  
Superman got nothin’ on me  
I’m only one call away...

  
**Friday, January 29, 2016**

Jess paced around the living room in nothing but Rafael’s favorite pair of her black lace panties and a robe that hit her mid-thigh. That morning, as usual, he’d left before her. But this particular morning, he left her a note by the Keurig.

_It’s been far too long since I’ve had you properly, and I’m remedying that tonight. I’ll be home at six. Wear something lacy. We’ll worry about dinner when we can feel our toes again. Te amo, cariño. -R_

Ever since the shooting, their once frequent intimate moments had dwindled to the occasional bit of oral. Not that she blamed him at all. He was hurt and not able to move well. God help the man that ordered him shot, though. On their “quiet night in” at New Year’s after a few glasses of wine, she threatened to cut the guy’s dick off. A woman’s needs and all…

At the sound of a key turning the lock, she yanked off the robe.

Rafael grunted when his back hit the closed door behind him, and his mostly naked girlfriend was kissing him like her life depended on it. Dropping his briefcase onto the table beside the door, he pulled her against him with one hand on her hip and one hand on her cheek. “I take it you got my note,” he mumbled against her lips when breaking away for air became a necessity.

“There was mention made of extremities being numb. Do you have any idea how hard it is to function as an adult when that note is in your head?” She shoved his overcoat off and threw it in the vague direction of the coat rack.

“I do, actually.” He shrugged off his suit coat as she undid his tie. “I wrote the damn thing. And if I thought I could carry you without dropping you, I would.”

“Enough talking.” Jess grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom. Her lips met his again while they both worked on divesting him of his remaining clothing.

 

“Jesus,” she wheezed, pulling him down so that his forehead rested on her sternum. She carded her fingers through his dark hair while he caught his breath. There were more grey strands now than there had been when they’d met eight months earlier. Jess smiled at the silvery hairs and kissed the top of his head. And she was definitely going to be walking funny the next day. “As fantastic as that was, let’s not go that long between…”

“I know,” Rafael interrupted. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her again.

“So don’t go get shot again or anything.”

“Let me alert the criminal class.” He climbed out of the bed with a groan and headed into the bathroom. “‘Sorry Mister Bad Guy, you can’t shoot me. I need to go home and fuck my girlfriend before she combusts’,” he sassed.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re an ass.”

“Yes I am.” He grinned and climbed back into the bed.

“An unmitigated ass.”

Rolling onto his side to face her, he hummed his agreement. “But you love me.”

“I do. God help me, I do.” Reaching up, she wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. “I need a shower.”

“I could use one, too. And round two.”

“Thank god I put those grippy things on the bottom of the tub while you still needed that cane.”

No sooner had he begun kissing her again, he pulled away at the sound of a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it. You go start without me.” Grabbing her underwear and robe, she redressed and walked to the door. She looked over her shoulder to make sure Rafael had closed the bathroom door. Jess unlocked her front door and gasped at the sight in front of her. “K-Kaylee? What are you doing here?”

The teenager collapsed into her teacher’s arms in tears. “I didn’t know where else to go,” she sobbed.

After making sure no one else was in the hallway, she led the crying girl to her sofa. “Wait here a second. Let me put some clothes on. I was about to get in the shower.” She jogged into the bedroom and pulled on a bra, some sweatpants, and a tank top. Exiting the bedroom, she washed her hands in the kitchen and put some ice cubes in a washcloth. “What on earth happened?” she inquired, sitting down beside her student and held the makeshift ice pack against her split and bleeding lip.

“J-Jake.”

“He did this?”

“I was leaving the locker room after basketball practice, and he hit me. He slammed my head against the wall. Then he shoved me in the shower and...and…forced me. Oh god, he raped me.”

“Shit,” she swore. “Listen, my friend Olivia lives two floors down from here. She’s a police officer. She works for the Special Victims Unit. I’m gonna take you downstairs to her, okay?”

“P-Police, I…”

“Kaylee, do you trust me?” At her student’s nod, Jess knelt down in front of her. “Then trust her.”

“Only if you come with me.”

Motioning for her to stay put, she grabbed some clothes from the bedroom and cautiously entered the bathroom where Rafael was showering. “Hon, I have to go down to Olivia’s. It’s an emergency.”

He poked his head out from behind the shower curtain. “Noah?”  
“I wish. One of my adv…” She stopped mid-word and dropped the bundle of clothes on the closed toilet lid. “The less I say the better probably. I don't have your legal acumen.”

He shot her a sideways glance.

“I’ve gotta go.” Pressing an apologetic kiss to his cheek, she sighed and returned to her student. Jess grabbed her purse, slid on some shoes, and grabbed a spare sweater from the coat closet.

“Your friend,” Kaylee began, sliding the sweater over her arms once they were in the hallway. “How do you know you can trust her?”

She smiled sadly and pushed the elevator call button.

 

Fin Tutuola put a reassuring hand on Jess’s shoulder in the hospital hallway an hour later and put his notepad back into his jacket pocket. “I think I’ve got everything I need for now,” he said, standing up from the bench they shared. “If there’s anything else, Liv’s got your number.”

“Thanks, Fin. It was nice to see you again, although I wish the circumstances were different.”

The older man cocked an eyebrow when he spotted a clearly out of breath assistant district attorney...well, coming as close to jogging as he could down the hallway wearing khakis and a blue polo. “Counselor? What…” His next words died on his lips when the schoolteacher stood up and wound her arms around Barba’s neck. He should have figured.

Returning the embrace, he gave her a quick kiss. “Detective, get everything you need from her?”

“Yeah, she’s good to go. Liv’ll be in touch.” When Barba nodded, Fin turned to head toward the exam room and Benson.

“Let’s get you home, huh?” he suggested, rubbing her back gently.

“I-I promised I’d wait until her parents got here. I can’t leave her now, not after all this.” Plopping back down on the bench, she pulled her hair out of the sloppy bun she’d twisted it into before leaving Olivia’s. Her normally arrow-straight brown hair cascaded down her shoulders and back in random waves. “Liv said she’d come get me when they were through.”

“Then I’ll wait, too.” He unbuttoned his black pea coat and sat down next to her. He tenderly took her hand in his and began to rub his thumb over the back when she pulled the book she’d been reading for fun out of her bag.

After staring at the same page of Gone Girl for what seemed like an eternity, Jess slammed the book shut and tossed it down on the bench beside her.  
The sudden thud tore Rafael away from the place on the opposite wall he’d been staring at. “I’d ask what’s wrong, but…”

“Liv called you, didn’t she?”

“Well, texted, but yes.”

“Of all the days for me to skip leg day. I always stay after on Fridays to…”

“Jess, stop. You cannot think like that,” he interrupted. “None of this is your fault. None of this is her fault, either.” His reassurances stopped when she stood up suddenly and walked over to the couple that just entered the hallway.

“Mister and Mrs. Seward…”

“Where is she?” the blonde in her mid-fifties asked, panicked.

Just as she opened her mouth, Olivia stepped out of the exam room.

After a few words of reassurance to the parents, Jess let Olivia lead her into the exam room. “Hey, Kaylee…”

“You? Lieutenant Benson was talking about you?” the teenager asked in disbelief.

With a heavy sigh, she nodded. “Yeah, it’s me.”

 

Rafael shoved his hands into his coat pockets when his girlfriend exited the exam room a few minutes later. He watched as she wiped under her eyes with the pad of her thumb, smudging her eyeliner. Taking her hand, he led her out of the hospital.  
Jess stared blankly at the sea of passing cars, flinching when he tried to usher her into a cab. She remained silent the entire ride back to their apartment.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not. Twenty minutes ago, you were beating yourself up over the fact that you…”

“I know what I said.” Kicking off her shoes, she yanked off her coat and threw it in the vague direction of the laundry hamper. She put her hands on her hips in the middle of her living room. “And I can take care of myself.”

“Jess, please. How many times have you been there for me even when I didn’t want it?” He slowly approached her and kissed her forehead. “Let me return the favor?” When she nodded slowly, he pulled her in and hugged her tightly. He led her into her dark bedroom and flipped on the light. “Are you hungry? Do you want to lie down?”

She sighed heavily before beginning to unbutton her shirt. “I-I… Both? I want to sleep. I’m exhausted. But I’m absolutely starving.”

“Why don’t you lay down, and I’ll order us something?” he prodded. At her nod, he pulled the blankets back and helped her into bed. By the time he returned from placing the order for Thai food, she’d fallen asleep. With a sad smile, he curled into bed with her. He pressed his chest against her back and draped an arm over her hip. She was being dragged down into his world, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lack of Barba smut again (even though I hinted at it). I started writing it, and couldn't get it the way I wanted it, so I just left it out. 
> 
> The case I hinted about writing lines up pretty well with "A Misunderstanding" (s17 e12). It doesn't follow the plot of the episode exactly, but it's pretty close. So if you just substitute this case for that one, you'll be in line with how this fits into the season canon already. 
> 
> The song for this chapter is "One Call Away" by Charlie Puth, and it's on the playlist.
> 
> Same warning as last time, I'm posting this from an iPad, so if you spot any formatting errors, please let me know.
> 
> Next chapter involves who shot Barba, why, and some witness prep.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen**

 

_ The young must be our sacrifice, they say with crippled grins _

_ The eyes of youth must lose their way and stumble here within _

_ So the sleeping children were awoke, in time to haze their eyes... _

  
  


**Two weeks later…**

 

Kaylee Seward warily made her way into the large A.D.A.’s office ahead of her teacher. Despite having been informed of Miss Bell’s relationship with the half-prickly attorney, she still wasn’t entirely comfortable. 

He motioned for her to sit in one of the large chairs around the circular table in the center of his office. Dropping his notepad and pen onto the table, he straightened his tie before sitting across from her. “Neither Lieutenant Benson or Miss Bell will be able to sit in on the trial until after they’ve each testified, but I’ll be there in your corner. So will your parents.”

She took a sip from her large Nalgene water bottle and nodded. 

“You know the defense will be able to ask you…”

“Just this side of everything? Yes.” She absentmindedly ran her finger around the opening of the bottle. “Lieutenant Benson told me.” After she’d given her account of the initial assault again, she pulled her long blonde hair out of her hair clip. 

“Now,” he began, picking up his pen and bouncing it back and forth against his thumb and pinky finger. “You and Mister Seeger used to date, correct?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“For two months back in the spring.”

“Why did it end?”

“Why is that important?”

“Everything is important. The one thing you don’t tell me is the one thing the defense will use to discredit you and your story.”

She reached down onto the floor and grabbed her backpack and purse before standing up to leave. “So you don’t believ--”

“We believe everything you’re saying, Kaylee,” Rafael reassured. “Your ex-boyfriend’s parents have hired him a  _ very _ good attorney. I’ve been up against him in court several times before and lost a time or two. I need to know everything so I can make sure there’s nothing he can use against you. Trust me.”

She sat back down and nodded. “I broke it off.”

Some time later, he dropped his pen and popped his neck. “We’re almost done, I promise. Now, the defense is going to bring up is that you didn’t initially want to press charges. I need to know why you changed your mind.”

“I was scared of him. He’d just raped me. I didn’t know what he’d do if he found out I told anyone. Lieutenant Benson assured me that I was safe, and that he couldn’t hurt me again.”

“Kaylee, why don’t you hit the restroom before I take you home?” Jess suggested when they were all through a few minutes later. “I need to talk to Mister Barba for a second.”

With a nod, the teenager exited the office and shut the door behind her.

Rafael started to make a joke, but stopped when her solemn expression hadn’t changed. “What’s up?”

“Does the ‘one thing you don’t tell me is the one thing the defense will use to discredit you’ warning apply to me, too?” she whispered. When an alarmed look crossed his face, she shook her head. “It’s nothing that I’ve done, but if this other attorney is as good as you say, I’m sure he’ll find it in the course of doing his homework. I couldn’t forgive myself if not telling you would cost her a shot at punishing that prick.” Hearing the door open again, she squeezed his hand. “I’ll tell you tonight.”

* * *

Tossing his keys and briefcase into the leather armchair that came over from his apartment, Rafael shed his over and suit coats. He headed into the kitchen where his girlfriend was making dinner. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Jess sighed heavily and poured a glass of wine. “You know that my late-sister and John were twins. But what I didn’t tell you back in September was why she killed herself.”

“So much for pleasantries,” he shrugged. “What does this have to do with…”

“Trust me, Raf. It has everything to do with Kaylee.” She fingered the stem of her own glass nervously before continuing. “She was supposed to come visit me here in Manhattan to go shopping for her prom dress.” She grabbed a glass and poured a measure of scotch for him. “She never showed up.”

“Oh god.” He stood behind her and hugged her. 

“When she was three hours late, I called her cell. My sister didn’t answer.” She turned down the heat on the burner so the food wouldn’t burn as she continued her story. She looked up at the ceiling and blinked back tears. “ _ Detective _ Olivia Benson did.”

His heart sank so low he could have sworn it hit his liver. “ _ Cariño _ , what…”

“Please let me finish. I’ll never be able to do it otherwise.” At his nod, she turned back to the stove and briefly stirred the couscous dish she’d been working on. “On her way into the city, she’d stopped off to return some things that her ex had given her while they were together. She agreed to meet him in the library. She went into a conference room with him to talk. After she told him that she was dating someone new...well, she wound up in the hospital. There was some evidence, but not a lot. Your predecessor, Casey Novak, charged him. His parents were worth a fortune, so of course they got their precious angel an expensive attorney. You can see an obvious parallel here.”

Rafael felt tears welling up in his own eyes when she sniffled. He knew all too well how things like this turned out sometimes. 

“Well, it went to trial. She sat there and listened to him say all sorts of disparaging things about her in open court. My parents didn’t even know she’d ever had sex. There was an issue with lab corruption. Evidence got tossed.” 

He took the glass from her and set it on the counter table when Jess began to cry. 

“She’d started seeing a therapist before the trial started, but when the charges were dismissed…” Reaching across the counter toward an envelope, she handed it to Rafael. “She left me a note.”

He put the envelope back down on the counter. “I don’t need to read it. I shouldn’t read it. Whatever’s in here, she meant for your eyes only.”

“I-I’m sorry, Rafi.”

“For what?”

“For not telling you sooner. For lying by omission about how I met Olivia the day we met. I mean, telling you then… It was just easier to tell you that I met Liv when she and Cassidy moved in.”

He pulled back slightly so he could look her in the eye. “Jessica, I…”

She turned around in his arms. “You have to understand why I didn’t tell you back in September, too. This was all so new. I didn’t want you feeling like you were taking your work home with you.”

“Taking my work home with me?” he scoffed, searching for his next words. “Jessica Bell, believe me, that is the  _ last _ thing I would think.” Rafael kissed her forehead and guided her head so it rested on his shoulder. “I certainly understand why you didn’t tell me, but I’m glad you did...for more than one reason.”

“I’m going to have to testify for Kaylee, aren’t I?” Jess inquired after a few moments, closing her eyes and taking in the woodsy scent of his expensive cologne. 

“You’re the outcry witness. You’ll be up first.” When she broke the embrace to tend to the still-cooking dinner on the stove, he finally picked up the glass of scotch she’d poured for him. The one and only upside to the situation, he thought as he took a generous swig, was she could finally get her wish and see him do his “big, badass lawyer thing”. “Did you testify for your sister?”

“No. I was on the list, though.”

“So Novak prepped you?”

Wiping her eyes with the dish towel hanging on the oven handle, she nodded. “The charges were dropped before I testified. I was the rebuttal witness after her ex took the stand.”

“We’ll have to prep…”

“Obviously. But you can save the attire speech. ‘Skirt below the knee, flats, shirt buttoned with only the top button undone, cardigan, minimal makeup, and glasses. You want to be the jury’s favorite teacher from high school, not “hot for teacher”.’ I remember.”

“Good,” he sassed before remembering the seriousness of the topic she’d been telling him about. “Wait, you don’t wear glasses.”

“Got ‘em for for Halloween one year. I have a pair with fake lenses.” She grabbed two bowls from the cabinet and spooned portions from the pan into each one. “I’ll use cheap mascara and not my normal ‘Better Than Sex’ mascara.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I don’t think the jury can tell your mascara brand from ten paces, but whatever you need to do.”

 

“So will you be asking me about Mary?” she asked as she put the empty bowls in the sink after a mostly wordless dinner.

“I was thinking about that while we were eating,” Rafael answered, pouring himself a second scotch. “If I don’t ask and he brings it up, the jury’ll think one of three things. They’ll either think that: A -- I didn’t know about it, B -- you have something to hide, or C -- that the defense is attacking their favorite teacher.”

“And C is the option you want. If they think opposing counsel is being a dick for trying to use my dead sister to prove I’m biased, they’ll project onto...”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Did I miss the part where you became some sort of a mastermind?”

Jess grinned. “You’ve never played any kind of strategy game with me. Heaven help you if you play with my entire family. Last time I played Monopoly with all of them, the game lasted seven hours.” She laughed when he winced. “And besides, I hang out with you way too much for it not to rub off.”

Just as Rafael opened his mouth with a witty retort on the tip of his tongue, a knock came at the door. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and went to answer the door. Opening the door warily, he stepped back. “Liv?” he inquired, noting the serious expression on his friend’s face.

“Jess is home, right?”

He moved aside to let her in the door. “She’s in the kitchen.”

Olivia handed him a photo from her pocket once he’d latched the deadbolt behind her. “I’ll have to ask her, too, but have you ever seen this man?”

He looked down to the picture, back up to Olivia, and back down at the photo. “You’re kidding, right? This guy looks like me if I didn’t bathe for three days.”

“You remember that case a few months back with the underage drug mules?” When her friend nodded, she continued. “When we picked up those girls, we accidentally grabbed about a million dollars worth of his heroin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello, guys. I'm back. This chapter is a bit shorter than anticipated. I haven't updated in a while and wanted to give y'all something, so I cut this chapter off. But we are one step closer to a lot of things I've been teasing for a while. Sorry about the wait. Life's complicated.
> 
> The song for this chapter is "Complicated Situation" by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. The playlist is here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjgjKHy4ofeCrwF-ewB2nx9637Iz1stUa


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two songs on the playlist for this chapter. The one mentioned at the beginning of the chapter is Rilo Kiley's "It's a Hit". The other is "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" from Phantom of the Opera. Playlist is here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjgjKHy4ofeCrwF-ewB2nx9637Iz1stUa
> 
> Okay. So I've started back to school for my second bachelor's degree (yeah...), so it might take a while for updates sometimes.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me!

**Chapter Sixteen**

 

_ Ah, but the pardons never come from upstairs. _

_ They’re always a moment too late, _

_ But it’s entertainment _

_ Keep the crowd on their toes, _

_ It’s justice, we’re safe... _

  
  


**February 24, 2016**

 

Jess jumped out of bed as a wave of nausea hit her and ran into the bathroom. Dropping to her knees in front of the toilet, she emptied the contents of her stomach in the bowl. She wedged herself between the bathtub and the toilet when she couldn’t throw up anymore, letting her head flop back against the side of the tub. 

“Not your normal choice of morning beverage, but okay,” Rafael teased, cocking his head to the side when she grabbed the ginger ale normally reserved for cocktails out of the fridge and took a swig straight from the bottle. Setting his coffee mug down on the counter, he cupped her elbow and led her to lean against the sink. “Are you okay? You’re the color of The Hulk,  _ cariño _ .”

“You really know how to make a girl feel sexy, Rafael.” She managed a laugh despite fighting to keep the cold soda down. “I must admit, I was hoping for a comparison with the stone-cold badass that is Peggy Carter whenever you made your first Marvel pop culture reference.”

“Seriously, are you alright? I can move Liv up if you’re…”

She waved him away and took another drink from the bottle. “It’s just nerves or something.  _ You _ need to get in the shower.”

“And  _ you  _ need to be there by nine-fifteen or tell me now to reschedule Liv.” He lifted a hand to her forehead. “You feel warm.”

“Go. I’m fine, I swear to god.”

 

Jess let out a nervous sigh and sat down in the chair on the witness stand after being sworn in. She’d dressed in one of her more conservative work outfits (leather flats, a black skirt that hit her mid-calf, and a light blue button down). Unseen by anyone else, she primly crossed her ankles and rested her hands in her lap. Her stomach had mostly calmed down, but she was struggling to keep her leg from twitching.

“Miss Bell,” Rafael began, standing up from his chair and buttoning his suit coat after she’d been sworn in. “Can you describe your relationship to the victim, Kaylee Seward?”

“I have her in two of my classes, British Literature and a special Shakespeare class. I am also her faculty adviser,” she answered,  leaning forward in the witness chair.

“How would you describe Miss Seward?”

“She is a good student, A’s and high B’s. She’s a member of the track team and math club. She’s not the most outgoing soul, but neither was I at that age.”

“Your Honor?”

“Move it along, Mister Barba.”

“Miss Bell on average, how much time do you spend with her in a given week?”

“I see her in class twice a day and eat lunch with her and the rest of my advisees on Tuesdays and Thursdays, per school policy. So all told, a total of eleven or so hours a week.”

“She’s a sophomore now. Were you her adviser last year, too?”

“Yes.”

“What can you tell the jury about any knowledge you have of a relationship between the victim and the defendant, Jake Seeger?”

“They dated in the spring semester of the last school year. I advised her against it, but she didn’t take that advice.”

“And why did you advise her against the relationship?”

“At the time they were dating, Kaylee was fourteen and Jake was sixteen. While age gaps in relationships between adults are commonplace, a two year age gap in a high school setting can potentially be a setup for disaster. In this case, Kaylee and Jake were in different places in their adolescence. Kaylee was happy to be noticed and to have someone to hold her hand at the movies. Jake…not so much.”

“Objection.”

Rafael picked up a paper from his table and handed it to the judge. “Your Honor, in this sworn statement to the police, Miss Bell details her observations from having the defendant in her class. Surely she can speak to what she saw or heard.”

“Objection overruled. Miss Bell, you can continue.”

“Jake…is possessive. I’ve personally broken up a fight he started with another student who had recently started dating one of his ex-girlfriends. He’s very used to getting his own way.”

He turned back to his girlfriend of almost nine months and put his hands on the rail around the witness box. “Can you describe for us the relevant events of the night of January 29th of this year?”

“I was at home about to get into the shower when there was a knock on my door. It was Kaylee. She had a split lip. Her head was bleeding. She was crying. I let her into my apartment and put some ice in a washcloth for her. I asked her what was wrong.”

“And what did she tell you?”

“She said that Jake…”

“The defendant,” Rafael inserted.

“Yes. She said that he found her in the locker room after her basketball practice, slammed her head against the wall, forced her into the shower, and raped her.”

“And what did you do next, Miss Bell?”

“I told her that my downstairs neighbor, Lieutenant Olivia Benson, was a police officer with Special Victims and that we should go and talk to her. She was still reluctant and only agreed to go when I said that I’d go with her. We went to Oliv…Lieutenant Benson’s apartment, and Kaylee repeated the story to her. At that point, we made arrangements for her son’s babysitter to come over and went to the hospital. I promised to stay with her until her parents got there. When we got to the hospital, the nurse took her into the exam area. I called her parents.”

“Can you describe the nature of your relationship with Lieutenant Benson?”

“She is my downstairs neighbor and my friend. I babysit her son, Noah, sometimes. We’ve known each other for almost six years. She has been working for Special Victims for almost sixteen years now. She is a caring and empathic investigator who I knew would do all she could to get justice for Kaylee.”

Tapping the corner of the witness stand, he turned to sit back down. He stopped in his tracks and looked back over his shoulder at her. “Thank you. Nothing further,” he concluded, trying his best to tell her it would all be alright with his eyes.

The rotund defense attorney stood up from the opposite table and smiled. “Miss Bell, tell me. What is the penalty for students caught engaging in sexual activity on the Tribeca Academy campus?”

“A three day suspension and a demerit.”

“And both of those things would appear on both students’ transcripts, the record that gets sent to colleges that the students would apply to?” When she answered in the affirmative, he approached the stand. “As a faculty member, you would be obliged to report any activity of that nature you were aware of, even if it involved a student that you were fond of?”

Rafael rolled his eyes and stood up. “Objection. Relevance?”

“Overruled.”

“Yes, I would be. And I have have reported students before, including several of my own advisees.”

“And as your advisee, Kaylee Seward would know that.”

“Most likely, yes. I don’t remember specifically telling her.”

Picking up a file from the defense table, Buchannan approached the witness stand. “Now, this isn’t the first time you’ve pointed the police toward a jealous ex-boyfriend as a rape subject, is it?”

“I’m not accusing anyone, Counselor. I never have.”

“Are you sure about that, Miss Bell? Defense exhibit five, a statement you gave to the N.Y.P.D. on the night of February 13 th , 2009.”

When Rafael saw the color drain out of his girlfriend stroke witness’s face, he stood up. “Approach?” He’d prepped Jess just in case, but if he could spare her by having the judge overrule...

The judge motioned for both attorneys to come closer and covered the microphone. “What is it?”

“Your Honor, the defense is attempting to introduce a six year old rape that has nothing to do with this case.”

“Of course it does. What opposing counsel didn’t mention is the fact that the victim in this case is his lover’s” he gestured toward Jessica “little sister. She pointed the N.Y.P.D. in the direction of an ex-boyfriend then, too. It clearly goes to weight.”

“What it goes to is badgering the witness,” Rafael countered. “Jess—Miss Bell’s parents also pointed the police in the direction of the same suspect, as did many of the victim’s friends.”

“None of those others are testifying in this trial, Your Honor. She is. How can I defend my client without making sure the witness isn’t biased against him?”

The judge held up a hand to silence the A.D.A.’s rebuttal. “The witness will answer.”

Looking up at the ceiling, she covered her mouth to compose herself before seeking any non-verbal reassurance from Rafael. 

Buchanan moved to stand in her line of sight. “The judge said you have to talk about this. Your boyfriend, the A.D.A., can’t help you now.” He handed Jess a copy of the statement. “Can you read a the highlighted portion for the jury please?”

She adjusted the glasses and cleared her throat. “Mary told me that her ex had a temper. She mentioned that she was going to go meet him before she came to my apartment. That’s the only reason I can think of that she’d be on Hudson’s campus.”

Rafael bit the inside of his lip hard enough to draw blood, but there was nothing he could do. When Buchanan moved enough that he could see her again, he prayed that she would still take his advice and not let the questions get to her. The expression playing out on her face…she was about two seconds from throttling opposing counsel. She’d given him that same look when he’d yelled at her during the D.C.S. case.

She stared at the fat defense attorney and a light went on in her head.  _ And he’s going for plan C _ . But her gaze shifted when he moved and fell on Kaylee in the gallery. He was trying to bait her, admit to being biased. And she wasn’t going to take the bait. 

“So you pointed the police toward this ex-boyfriend?”

“I didn’t point anyone anywhere. My parents did the pointing. I was just responding to questions.”

“But you didn’t disavow them of the notion. Tell me, what happened next?”

“The police investigated. The case went to trial, but evidence was tossed and the charges were dismissed. My sister committed suicide two days later.” She locked eyes with Buchannan with an expression that seemed to say “say something else”. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a female juror cover her mouth with her hand.

“I’m very sorry for your loss. So is it possible, Miss Bell, that you saw a young woman desperate not to lose her college chances because of experimental sex in a high school locker room? Is it possible that you saw this as a chance to vicariously get justice for your late sister?”

“No.”

“You’re telling this jury that you saw a middle-class girl with a scholarship to a prestigious school with a rich ex-boyfriend, just like your sister’s situation, and you didn’t once…”

“No I did not,” she confirmed with a steady voice, practically throwing the copy of her statement back at him. “The only thing I  _ saw _ was my student bloody and in distress. As her teacher, I have a duty of care.”

“Duty of care,” he chuckled. “Did your boyfriend coach you to say that?”

“Objection!”

Before the judge could rule, Jess answered with a wry half-smile. “I'm an English teacher with two degrees from Columbia, Counselor. I know plenty of big words on my own. As far as my sister’s attacker, he knows what he did. He has to live with that for the rest of his life. If that’s the closest to a conviction I can get, I’ll take it. I don’t need to live vicariously.”

Barba couldn’t help but grin a little. She’d clearly been around him for too long. She just sassed opposing counsel in open court.

“And another thing… Out of all of her teachers, she happened to have your address and came to you. You, the sister of a rape victim with an A.D.A. boyfriend in the other room and a S.V.U. detective living two floors down. Why is that? Could it be that she knew you’d believe her made up story?”

“First of all, I don’t believe she made it up. And secondly, I keep my private life to myself at school. She wouldn’t have any knowledge of the company I keep.”

“She feels close enough to you to disclose that she’d been allegedly raped. Could you have possibly felt close enough to her to share some of those details over lunch?”

“No. The only intimate details of my life I’ve ever shared with my advisees involve my fat, black cat playing with a laser pointer.”

Rafael pretended to scratch the side of his face in an effort to hide his amusement from Carisi sitting at the table next to him. “Redirect, Your Honor?” When the judge nodded, he rose from his seat again. He motioned toward the statement Buchannan had brought into evidence and brought it back to Jessica. “I’d like you to take another look at this statement.” He flipped to the second page. “Beginning with the second paragraph, can you read what you told the police about your knowledge of your sister’s alleged attacker?”

“‘I’ve only been in the same room as Mike Ayinger twice. I don’t know anything about him other than the fact that my father once called him “an entitled prick” in front of me. Mary was heartbroken when my parents made her end the relationship, but she started dating one of her high school classmates soon after that.’”

“Thank you. And if you go back to the first page, can you read why your sister went to Hudson?”

“‘A few days before she was supposed to come to the city to visit me, she emailed me pictures of some of the texts he’d sent her. Some were threatening, and others were him begging her to take him back. He’d been Facebook stalking her, too. She told me that she was going to Hudson give him back a few things he’d given her when they were together and to tell him to leave her alone. Her new boyfriend wasn’t happy that he was texting her still.’”

He took the document back from her. “When you were initially interviewed at the hospital that day, how did the subject of Mike Ayinger, your sister’s ex-boyfriend, come up?”

“Then-Detective Benson brought him up. She said that my mother told her just how close my sister and I were. My mom didn’t know why my sister went to Hudson that day, but if it was because of her ex, I’d be the one to know.”

“So it’s more accurate to say that you were merely confirming existing suspicions rather than pointing the finger?”

“Yes.”

“One last thing, Miss Bell. The defense brought up that Kaylee Seward came directly to o...your home and disclosed. Just how did she come to have your address?”

“I give each of my advisees as incoming freshmen a card with my name, address, phone number, and email address on it. My older advisees find the card useful when applying for a job or college. I tell them they can use me as a reference. I also know from experience that teenagers have problems they don’t feel comfortable discussing with their parents or at school. My advisees know they can call me day or night.”

“Do you have many advisees that take advantage of that policy?”

“From time to time. It’s a mix of current and former students. One of my first advisees called me two years ago as a junior in college. He’d been struggling with some mental health issues. He found my card, remembered my policy, and just needed someone neutral to talk to.” She turned toward the jury and smiled proudly. “He’ll graduate with honors from CalTech after this semester.”

“It’s close to lunch. Let’s recess for an hour,” the judge suggested when Barba sat back down.

The second the gavel fell, Jessica pushed the microphone away and rushed past Rafael. She leaned against the cool stone wall just outside the courtroom door and gasped for breath. She snapped back to the present when she felt her boyfriend’s hand on the small of her back. 

He led her into the closest conference room, dropped his briefcase on the floor unceremoniously, and sat down next to her. He pulled her to his side. When she pressed her nose against his jugular and her arms wound around his middle, he tilted his head and kissed her forehead. 

Lifting her head enough to look at him, she frowned. “How was that?”

He gently smoothed her long hair reassuringly. “I couldn’t have asked for it to go better. You did great. And the bit at the end about your CalTech student?”

“It just came to me.”

“I could tell,” he grinned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she affirmed with a nod. “I’m fine. We practiced it. I didn’t let him get to me.”

“But still…”

“Raf, I’m fine.”

“Were you still wanting to come for the arraignment?”

“I took the whole day off. If me looking like a librarian helps Kaylee, it can’t help this asshole.”

He nodded and took her hand in his. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

She followed him down the brightly lit hallway of the courthouse. Looking down at their entwined hands, Jess squeezed his hand. For him to initiate contact like that in his element was rare, but she certainly understood this time. 

Rafael ushered Jess into the bench behind the prosecution table and slid in next to her, nodding when Olivia sat down at his side. He gripped her hand tighter when the door at the other corner of the courtroom opened and the most inconvenient doppelgänger in history was led in. 

Jess had picked up a few more Spanish words and phrases from Rafael over the time they’d been together, but when her other half put a protective arm around her shoulders at the words from the man accused of shooting him, she knew it couldn’t be good. Based on her knowledge of French, she was pretty sure this Nevada character had called her a whore. And well between  _ papí  _ and the hand gesture… She had a guess. 

A few minutes later when the judge called for remand, she felt both Rafael and Olivia sigh in relief with her. 

“Are you going back to school or…” Raf asked softly once they were outside the courtroom again.

“I took the whole day. I didn’t know how long this would take. Plus, I still feel like shit,” she mumbled into his shirt collar. Raising her head, she scratched off a bit of powder that transferred from the tip of her nose to his collar. “What about you?”

He shook his head and cupped her cheek. “Olivia’s testifying next. Do you want to get some lunch somewhere?”

“Rain check, darlin’?” Jess asked apologetically. He’d never said it out loud, but she couldn’t help but notice whenever she used her mother’s favorite term of endearment and her accent turned Texan, he always smiled. When he ducked his head to give her a quick kiss, she knew they were okay. “I just want to go curl up on the couch with Dude and watch some trashy Bravo reality show. And you probably shouldn’t have done that. I may have the plague.”

“If you have the plague, I’ll catch it soon enough anyway.”

“You’ve got people waiting.” She shrugged. “It’s Carisi.”

Rafael rolled his eyes in the general direction of her stare.

She brought a finger up to his jaw and brought his gaze back to hers. “I’ll see you tonight, Raf. Go do your big badass lawyer thing.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she gave him a wave goodbye and exited the conference room. “Detective Carisi,” she greeted before heading to the elevator. 

Barba grabbed his briefcase and joined the detective in the hallway. 

“How’s she holdin’ up, Counselor? That wasn’t easy, the way he tried to make her look biased against Jake by bringing up her dead sister?”

“We prepped for it coming up just to be safe. She’s strong...and smart. ” Looking up at the tall detective, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride. “She pulled that last comment out of thin air. Didn’t know she was going to bring that up, but I couldn’t ask for a better ending to redirect.”

“She came up with that on her own?”

He nodded. “And that look she gave Buchanan? I’ve gotten that look  _ once _ , and I never want to get again. For a second there, I thought I’d have to take a leave of absence to defend her at her murder trial.”

Carisi laughed off the observation. “I wouldn’t have pegged her for someone to back-talk the defense.”

“Neither would I,” he confirmed softly, returning her wave as the elevator doors closed. “Clearly, I’m a bad influence.”

 

Just as he was about to insert his key into the lock several hours, Rafael Barba paused when he heard music coming from their apartment. There was no mistaking that it was  _ Phantom of the Opera _ , but not sung by any Christine he’d ever heard. This voice was...younger, not quite trained. It definitely wasn’t the girl from the movie. He cocked an eyebrow. In all the time they’d been together, he’d never heard Jess mention or listen to the iconic musical. It wasn’t even in her iTunes library.  _ Cats _ and  _ Jesus Christ Superstar _ were...but not  _ Phantom _ ...

He unlocked the door and pushed it open as quietly as possible. 

“ _...Passing bells and sculpted angels, Cold and monumental, Seem for you the wrong companions. You were warm and gentle… _ ”

He set his briefcase down and popped his head around the corner to see in the living room. 

Jess was laying on the couch with The Dude sleeping on her chest as she watched the musical Raf didn’t even think she liked. 

_ “...Too many years fighting back tears, Why can’t the past just die? _ ”

Speaking of fighting back tears, Jess clearly wasn’t while mouthing along to the words at the crescendo.

“ _ Wishing you were somehow here again, Knowing we must say goodbye. Try to forgive, teach me to live. Give me the strength to try… _ ”

Stepping more into the room (still without her acknowledging him), he got a good look at the screen and realized why she was crying. The semi-trained soprano he identified from the other side of a door was Mary Bell. Singing and acting her teenage heart out in the Bell living room. 

“ _ No more memories, no more silent tears, No more gazing across the wasted years. Help me say goodbye… _ ”

Applause interrupted on the video after she repeated the final line one more time. 

“ _ Jess, come  _ on _! Don’t applaud! _ ”

“ _ Mary, don’t be such a spoil sport. _ ” 

He bit his lip when a much younger version of his girlfriend stepped into the camera frame. “ _ It’s not every day I get asked to film your Juliard aud… _ ”

2016 Jessica paused the video, moved the fat black cat to the other end of the sofa, and stood up. “Duane had basketball,” she stated hoarsely. “Gregg was good enough to play baseball at Texas Tech. John had football. I had being a nerd in my room alone and Tech Crew on the high school plays. Mary?” She paused to wipe a mascara-laced tear away. “Mary had the set of pipes that was going to take over The Great White Way.”

“Jess…”

“I know my parents bought the tape from the school. They probably still have it. She was Fantine in  _ Les Mis _ that year.” She laughed at the memory. “Opening night, she got a little  _ too _ into character and dropped to her knees so hard during ‘I Dreamed a Dream’, she cut her knee open and cracked her kneecap on the stage while singing ‘I had a dream my life would be So different from this hell I’m living’.”

He wrapped his arms around and hugged her as if it were the last time he’d get to do so. 

“I know you can’t talk about it, but…”

“I couldn’t have asked for any better, you or Liv."


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bolded text is from "Casino Royale" by Ian Fleming. And the song for this chapter is Coldplay's "Clocks", Sorry this took me so darn long. Life's been nuts.
> 
> And can I just say "WHAT THE SHIT" about the SVU finale. Because certain issues with Barba (no spoilers) weren't resolved, I'm taking my time with updates until the show comes back in September. As y'all know, I'm trying to keep this story as close to canon as I can. 
> 
> THAT BEING SAID, I'm working on a Carisi-centric side piece that takes place in the same universe as this story. Hold onto your butts and get ready for that shit. Teaser? Barba face palms a lot, Jess gets a yarn discount, Carisi experiences the miracle of launch control, and a woman you haven't met yet named Miranda gets Sonny into a tuxedo. 
> 
> As always, thanks for sticking with me.

**Chapter Seventeen**

 

_ Home, home where I wanted to go... _

 

“Oh my god. Not again.” Jessica’s hand flew to cover her mouth as she raced from the kitchen to the bathroom. She whimpered when her knees hit the cold tile floor just before her limited breakfast of Sprite and saltines came back up. 

Rafael entered the bathroom behind her a moment later and wetted a cool washcloth for her. “You should probably get that looked at,” he observed before handing her the cloth. 

“It’s probably just that seventy-two hour bug going around.” She wiped her face and blinked a few times. _ If this is any indication of what morning sickness is like, I’m having a hysterectomy the minute I’m feeling better. _ Her eyes widened, and she began doing some quick mental math. She shot up from the floor, shoved him out of the bathroom, and shut and locked the door behind him. 

“Jess? W-What’s going on?”

“Shit,” she swore under her breath as she began to frantically search the vanity drawers. “Shit.” 

“Jessica, what the hell...” he began when she emerged two minutes later. 

Instead of answering, she blew past him into the bedroom and threw on the previous day’s jeans, a bra, shirt, and winter coat. “Have a good day at work, hon. I’ll see you later.” She grabbed her purse and slid on her snow boots before running out the door. 

Dumbfounded, he made his way into the bathroom. Nothing seemed to be different from before...apart from the two pregnancy tests sitting on top of the small trash pile in the trash can. Rafael grabbed a Q-Tip from the cup on the counter and maneuvered the pair of tests so he could see both results. If he wasn’t due in court in less than an hour with a stop to make before then, he would sit at home and wait for her to come back. 

But for now, he’d have to sit next to his shadow, Carisi, and listen to Jake Seeger lie on the stand...all the while not knowing whether the positive test or the negative test in the trash was the accurate result.

 

“Barba!” Liv called, racing up the courthouse steps behind him. 

The surprisingly under-caffeinated A.D.A. turned to face his friend before leaning against one of the stone pillars by the door. “If it’s a surprise or bad news,  _ please _ for the love of all things holy, save it for after court?”

“Rafael, no offense, but you look like death warmed over. Are you okay?”

He laughed wearily. “My stomach is in knots, and my heart is pounding. I’ll get through it.”

“I told you all that coffee would catch…”

“It’s not…” After scanning the crowd, he pulled his friend to the back side of the pillar. “Between the two of us and this column?” At her nod, he exhaled slowly. “Jess has been sick since yesterday. She ran out of the bathroom, got dressed, and ran out the door.” He pulled his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, brought up the screen, and shoved it back where it came from. “After her Usain Bolt-worthy exit, I realized why she bolted.”

“You’re scaring me.”

Rafael let out a pained laugh. “One piece of plastic says I should be expecting a card in June. The other one says I shouldn’t.”

After a second, Liv’s eyes widened. “Oh my god.” She reached back and gripped the cold stone for support. “Oh my  _ god _ .”

“You’re not helping, Liv.”

She nonchalantly checked the eyeliner on her lower lids before looking back at her colleague and friend. “Have the two of you even talked about…”

“Exactly once,” he admitted slowly. “The night we wound up watching Noah. I… I’ve seen her with her family. I know it’s what she wants, but…”

“I get it.” She cocked an eyebrow when his phone went off in his pocket for the second time. “Gonna check that?”

“I’m scared to.” Removing the phone from the inside pocket of his coat, he saw the text was from Jessica. He twirled it in his hand for a few seconds before shoving it back into the pocket. 

“It might be negative.”

He shook his head. “But it might be positive. I don’t need that before court.”

“But it might be negative,” Olivia repeated, motioning for her to hand him the phone. When he reluctantly handed it to her, she brought up the screen. She looked at the screen, to Barba, and then back to the screen. “Passcode?”

“1-7-0-1.”

She tried to hide her smile as she typed in the series of numbers...and failed miserably. “These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise.”

“Did you know both of us preferred Picard before you offered to set us up? I don’t remember telling you.”

“I knew she did.” She handed him his phone back. “I figured that if you didn’t prefer Picard, you’d at least have a spirited discussion about it. You should have heard the twenty minute tirade she went on over why she prefers  _ Star Trek _ to  _ Star Wars _ . Blessedly, that was before Noah came along.”

“Lemme guess,  _ Trek  _ relies more on science and progressing styles, so it is more realistic?”

“Pretty much. And another ten minutes on why Captain Kirk is the reason we can’t have nice things?” At his nod, she clapped a hand on his shoulder. “She took seven more tests. It’s excessive, but all seven were negative.”

Once his friend was inside, Rafael sank against the pillar and opened the message for himself. 

“ _ In regards to your question, I was supposed to go get my new prescription a week after you were shot, but it’s not like I could have left you. I have seven negative tests and a doctor backing it up. As well as a new prescription. Don’t worry about me. I’m sorry I worried you. Knock ‘em dead, tiger. _ ”

 

As Rafael opened the apartment door several hours later, he shrugged off his coats. He hung his overcoat on the rack, dropped his briefcase, and walked further into the dark apartment. “You really had me worried,” he admitted, tossing his suit coat onto the chair in the bedroom before loosening his tie. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Jess reassured, curling tighter into herself on her side of the bed. 

He climbed into the bed with her after he’d stripped down to his tee shirt and boxers. “Seven tests?”

“There are such things as false positives and false negatives. I took as many as I could before I ran out of pee.”

Drawing her to his side, he let her rest her head on his shoulder. “So you just have some stomach bug?”

“The stomach bug with the worst timing  _ ever _ .” She sighed.

Playing absentmindedly with a stray strand of her hair, he kissed her forehead. “You seem sad.”

“Waiting for all those tests to develop, I had this mental image out of nowhere of us sitting in a principal’s office  _ again _ because our mouthy teenager objected to their homework.” When he laughed, she snuggled closer to him. “For a minute there, I thought ‘what the hell...it might be fun’. And just when I’m okay with it, almost happy about it, it’s not happening. I’m sad, and I don’t understand why. I need a damn drink.”

“Me too.” He got out of the bed and straightened his undershirt. “What do you want?”

“Something I don’t trust you to make.” She joined him in the land of the upright and popped her back. 

“After eight months, there’s something you like to drink that I can’t pour or make?”

“‘A woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets’, Rafael. This is a drink I only make in times of need. Well, times of need where I have money for the ingredients.” She padded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, pulling bottles of Lillet Blanc, Beefeater, Absolut from the freezer. “And you definitely need one, too after this.” 

“Dazzle me.”

“I will.” Jessica gently squeezed a lemon slice into the metal cocktail shaker full of ice and liquor. She held it dramatically over her right shoulder and shook it before adding lemon peels to two martini glasses. “ **‘Three measure of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it’s ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel’,** ” she quoted, handing one of the glasses to Rafael. “James Bond’s martini with the modern-day ingredient equivalents. Shakespeare wasn’t the only thing I learned about in London.”

He coughed in response to smelling the beverage. It was pure booze with a hint of lemon. But delicious.

She held up her glass after an initial sip. “To quote  _ How I Met Your Mother _ , ‘happy not-a-Father’s Day’.”

“If we ever actually procreate, I’m telling them about this moment in some public toast.”

“Fine. I’ll chime in with how you were too scared to check your texts, and that you made Olivia look for you.” At his laugh, she drained the rest of her martini. “You forget she was my friend before she was yours.”

“Well before you get hammered on this martini, I feel like I should tell you that Jake Seeger took a plea two hours ago.”

Setting her glass down on the countertop, she pressed her hands to her face. “I know why I couldn’t be there when she testified, but…”

“Between her testimony and the M.E.’s, he was done. She’ll be done with college before he gets out. And he’s on the registry.”

“Does she know?”

He nodded. “She does.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. 


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this chapter is "Soldier" by Ingrid Michaelson. Playlist link is in the previous chapter.
> 
> Guys, I'm sorry I've been away for so long. I've been working on so many other things. Please forgive me. I've had a burst of inspiration for this story (hopefully to carry it through to the end). I love each and every one of you for sticking with me...through this cliffhanger.

 

_And so it goes, this soldier knows_

_The battle with the heart isn’t easily won_

_But it can be won..._

 

**February 2016**

 

 _Of all the days to be late getting home…_ With a wince, Rafael opened the door to the apartment and quietly stepped inside. “Jess?” He threw his coat over the back of the rocking chair and set his briefcase on the ground. He raised an eyebrow when she still didn’t answer after he called her name again. Loosening his tie as he made his way back through the apartment, he grinned when he got to the bedroom.

Days like this made him glad they’d agreed to put her small double bed in storage and put his king-sized bed in when he moved in with her. She had to move some other furniture around, much to her dismay, but the trade-off in space was worth the increased bed area.

Jess was sleeping on her back diagonally across the bed, one hand resting on her stomach and the other draped almost dramatically around the top of her head. The Dude was snuggled between her knees, slumbering alongside his mistress. One of those medical shows she was so fond of marathoning (but that he couldn’t remember the name of) was still playing on her iPad.

His shoulders slumped. She’d fallen asleep waiting for him to come home. On her birthday. While she was off for Winter Break. He swore under his breath when his phone fell out of his coat pocket and hit the floor with a bang.

She shot up comedically, almost falling out of the bed. “‘S n’er lupus!”

Rafael tried not to laugh, but failed miserably. “I’m pretty sure that was a few episodes ago.”

“Shit. Whatimesit?” Jess muttered, blindly slapping the nightstand until she found her phone.

“Dinner reservations were two hours ago. _Cariño_ , I’m sorry. I tried to call…”

Rubbing her makeup-less eyes, she brought up the screen on her phone. “I can see that.” She pushed a bit of hair that’d fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear that was still damp from her earlier shower. “Must really be getting old. Clearly, scrubbing the bathroom and leg day are a lethal combination.”

“You scrubbed the bathroom and turned your legs to jelly on your birthday?” He stopped unbuttoning his shirt and kissed her forehead gently. “That second thing is supposed to be my job.”

“Is that a promise?”

He winked. “If you want it to be.”

“Maybe after I eat something. I’m hungry enough to eat a horse.”

Draping his vest over the chair in the corner, he extended a hand to help her up off of the bed. “Then it’s a good thing I called in a to-go order.”

She let him lead her out of the bedroom, but paused when she saw The Dude scratching at the side of a cardboard box with some odd holes in it by the front door she’d never seen before. “Raf, I told you the first time you came to this apartment that leaving anything that smells remotely of meat where the cat can get it is a bad idea.”

“That’s not the food. That’s part of your birthday present.”

“So now you’re bringing me gifts that appeal to the cat. Are you going senile?”

“Why don’t you go open it while I unpackage the food?” he suggested with a knowing grin.

Jess shot him a pointed, sideways glance before making her way to the front door. She shooed the fat, black cat away from the box...only to be met with a very tiny meow, too small to have come from The Dude. “Rafael Barba, what did you do?”

“Just open the box, Jessica.”

She carefully removed the lid of the printer paper box and squealed at the sight of the tiny, orange tabby kitten inside.

With little more than a glare from his mistress, the older cat stopped hissing and ran back into the bedroom.

“Darlin’, where did this little guy come from? I assume it’s a guy, and I didn’t even look.” She fingered the thin, blue collar around its neck with a smile...until her fingernails tapped on a heart-shaped tag hanging from it. It read “Demetrius” with Rafael’s phone number below it. “D-Demetrius?” she inquired as the kitten climbed up her shirt, latched a paw into her hair, and began gnawing on her ear.

He met her in the living room with a glass of wine. “To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?” he started as he handed her a glass. When she took it with her free hand, he continued. “Crystal is muddy. O! how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow; This pure congealed white, high Tarus’ snow, Fann’d with the eastern wind, turns to a crow When thou hold’st up thy hand. O! let me kiss That princess of pure white, this seal of bliss.”

“So do you just have his collective works memorized?”

“Not all of it, no,” he repeated. “I’d like to say ‘just enough to be witty at parties’, but I’ve spent what time I wasn’t tied up in court today memorizing that.” Rafael suppressed a laugh when her head suddenly tilted to starboard as the kitten began to climb her ponytail. He couldn’t hold it back anymore the moment Demetrius sat down on top of her head and meowed triumphantly. After putting his wine glass down on her card catalog coffee table, he plucked the excited little guy from her head and placed him gently on the floor to explore.

“I want to ask how you found him, but there are more important questions.”

“Like what?”

“Like… You do realize that kitten is what, eight weeks? Maybe ten? If you don’t lock him out of it, he’ll shred everything you hold dear. Your suits included.”

“The closets have doors. And judging by that display, he won’t shred you. As far as Dude? That old man could sit on Demetrius and end him.” Rafael leaned down and kissed her. “As far as where he came from? Well, that’s why he’s here.”

Finally free of feline entanglements for the moment, Jess took a long drink of her wine. “Which is?”

“A paralegal found him behind her building, but couldn’t keep him. He came right to her, so she thought he might be someone’s pet. Bargained with her landlord to let her keep him until she could find out where he belonged. I heard her talking with Carmen about it, and knew that you’d put _me_ in the pound if I let her do the same with him…”

“You’re getting soft in your old age, Rafael Barba.” Jess laughed.

“Maybe. If I am, I blame it entirely on you.”

She pushed past him with an eye roll and made her way to the plastic bag full of fragrant food on the counter. “I’m going to slip into a food coma and die,” she moaned, pulling the styrofoam container marked with “chicken fettuccine alfredo” from the bag. She produced a fork from the silverware drawer, dipped into the takeout Italian, and moaned loudly as she chewed the bite of pasta. “I’m totally happy with this being the other part of my birthday present. I’m down like four flat tires.”

He produced an envelope from his pocket. “But that’s not the other half of your part of your present. I tried to tuck this into the little guy’s collar, but he wasn’t having any part of it.”

Jess looked down at the letter-sized envelope and back up at her other half. “I can certainly see why. The envelope probably has a pound on him!”

Rafael motioned for her to open the envelope. When she lifted the flap, be bit back a grin.

“Holy _shit_.” She looked from the envelope, back to her other half, and again to the envelope. “You realize I can’t tell anyone about this, right? Someone will try to steal these tickets.”

“So don’t tell.”

“I won’t. Hell, I won’t even ask how you got these.”

“Probably for the best.”

She held up her wine glass. “Do I want to know how much these set you back?”

He touched the rim of his glass to hers. “It’s best not to ask.”

 

* * *

 

Olivia Benson shook her head, took off her reading glasses, and stood up from her desk as a feeling of dread settled in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t the fact that her friend and Barba’s other half was standing in the squad room that brought the uneasy feeling. Lord knows, Jess had been to the precinct many times to pick her up for a lunch date, pick up or drop off Noah, or use her as a mannequin for her latest crochet project. The dread came from the look on her friend’s face...and the envelope in her hand.

She’d seen that look on Jessica’s face exactly one time before.

 

**January 2010**

 

_Detective Olivia Benson cocked an eyebrow at the sight of Mary Bell’s sister standing in the door to the squad room. The young woman clutching an envelope to her chest had clearly been crying. She raked the file she’d been pouring over into the left drawer of her desk and crossed the room. “Jessica? Is something wrong? What’s that?”_

_“I-Is there somewhere we can talk?”_

_The older woman nodded and led the older sister of her victim into the interview room._

_“Mary…” She sunk down into one of the chairs and began to sob. “This was in the envelope addressed to me.”_

_Taking the envelope with her name on it, Olivia opened it._

 

Detective Benson,

 

I want to thank you for everything you’ve done on my behalf. You and your colleagues did everything you could for me…

 

_Looking over at Jessica, her heart broke. She put her hand on her shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere, okay? I’ll be right back.” When she nodded, Liv stood up and exited the room. She flagged down Elliot with a hand motion and handed him the note when he was at her side. “Mary Bell addressed this to me. She killed herself this morning. Her sister’s in the interview room.”_

_Stabler read the note quickly and folded it back up. “Damn. The charges get dropped, and she can’t keep going.”_

_“Her whole family heard him lie about her in open court. On top of what he did to her?”_

_He handed the note back to his partner. “Did you read the part where she asked you to look after her sister?”_

_She nodded. “I did. I’m not sure how I’ll honor that agreement, but…”_

 

**Present Day**

 

Lieutenant Olivia Benson exited her office, waved Carisi away, and caught her friend by the elbow. “Jess, is everything okay?”

“I-I don’t know. Is the interview room still to the left of your office, or did y’all re-arrange that, too?”

“It’s still there.”

“If it’s free, we should probably talk in there.”

Liv signaled Fin with a subtle hand movement. Once inside the room behind Jess, she shut the door once Fin made it into her office. “What’s in the envelope?”

“So Winter Break is this week. I went out to do some errands, and a note was taped to my door.”

“A note?”

Jess pulled a piece of paper from her purse and handed it to Liv.

“‘I have information about what happened to Mary. Meet me at…’ Jessica, you didn’t…”

“Olivia, it’s my sister. Of course I went.” Sliding the envelope across the table, she sat down. “He wouldn’t say what’s in it, but he told me to deliver it directly to you.”

She quickly pulled her hands back from the envelope and reached for the box of gloves on the shelf. “Did you open this?”

“No.”

“So when we print this, we’ll only find yours on the outside?”

“Yes. I have no idea what’s in that.”

With gloves on and an envelope opener, Olivia gently popped the parcel open and produced a series of check copies. “I need you to stop talking. I’m going to make a phone call for you, but for your sake and Mary’s sake, I need you to stop talking.”

 

“I’m slightly confused as to why I’m here,” Rita Calhoun admitted when Olivia met her at the elevator. “You’ve never called me about representing a perp.”

“It’s not a perp,” she responded with a sigh. “It’s a victim’s sister. A victim that was raped and killed herself over six years ago.”

“I'm still confused…”

“There might be new evidence.” When Rita stopped, she handed her the envelope previously addressed to Jessica that was now opened and enclosed in evidence bags. “I cut her off so she could consult with an attorney before giving me anything.”

“Why not call Barba?”

“She needs someone that can be objective, legally. You’re looking at his other half.”

“You’re kidding,” she scoffed (louder than she’d intended), looking through the one-way glass. “She looks about as threatening as a newborn kitten. Schoolteacher, I’m guessing?”

Liv rolled her eyes. “She’s also a friend, Rita,” she began sternly. Pulling open a desk drawer, she handed a photograph to the other woman. “If there’s any possibility of getting justice, her family deserves it.”

She nodded her agreement and handed the photo back.

“Knock when you’re ready for me,” she whispered as she opened the door. “Jess? This is Rita Calhoun. She’s here to help. Rita, this is Jessica Bell.” As the attorney shook her friend’s hand, she excused herself back to her office. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but she prayed silently that she was doing the right thing with another glance down to the image of Jessica and Mary Bell in happier times.

“Where is she?” Barba demanded, slamming Olivia’s office door behind him just as Rita began taking notes. He nearly dropped his briefcase when he looked up and saw his girlfriend in a room talking to the damn good defense attorney. “And what in the hell is she doing in _there_ with _her_?”

“Barb… Rafael, you need to sit down before you give yourself an aneurysm.” When he glared at her in defiance, she groaned in frustration. _I tried._ “I can’t say much, but I can say that it’s about Mary. I called Rita because she’s been on both sides of the aisle in these type of cases. And unlike you, she doesn’t have an agenda here and _much calmer_ with her entrance.”

“Fine,” he conceded, finally sitting down in one of the chairs across from Liv’s desk.

“When she needs to be, she’s a fighter.”

“I know.”

“I presume post-Kaylee Seward, you know the whole story.” At his nod, she sat down next to him. “I saw her the day Mary died, after she found out. She came in here today with the exact same look on her face as she did today.”

Lieutenant and A.D.A both looked in the direction of the other room at the sound of Rita tapping the glass with her finger.

“I have a box in my desk drawer.” Standing up again, she gave him the photo face down...but didn’t let go of her end. “Whenever I think about leaving after a tough case, I look in it. This has been in it for six years. I put it on the top the day after she and I caught up because we realized we were neighbors. If that knock means there’s a chance we can Al Capone this bastard, she’ll need you. Her family will need you. If we succeed, I can give that picture back to them.” Letting go, she laced her fingers together and cracked her knuckles. “I’ll leave you to the law school exam question that is whether or not you turn that volume knob.” She cocked a half-smile and entered the interview room.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this chapter is "Suicide is Painless" by Johnny Mandel. Some of you may know it from the more famous Manic Street Preachers cover. If you hear the melody and go "THAT'S THE 'M*A*S*H' THEME", I'll raise a martini glass to you. As always, the playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjgjKHy4ofeCrwF-ewB2nx9637Iz1stUa
> 
> This chapter has some lawyering in it. I am not a lawyer. I work in a bank and have an Animal Science degree and like 1/4 of an accounting degree. I make no claims that these legal strategies will work at all. I'm just a humble (tipsy) authoress that has spent far too much of her life since the mid-Nineties watching various iterations of "Law and Order".

_A brave man once requested me_   
To answer questions that are key  
_Is it to be or not to be_   
And I replied ‘oh why ask me?’  
_'Cause suicide is painless_   
_It brings on many changes_   
_And I can take or leave it if I please._ _  
_...and you can do the same thing if you please.

  


_“I’ll leave you to the law school exam question that is whether or not you turn up that volume knob.” She cocked a half-smile and entered the interview room._

 

Rafael Barba’s free hand clenched and unclenched a few times before he finally turned over the photograph.

The date counter in the lower right corner read “24 May 1992”. Eight year old Jessica sat in a large, blue LaZ Boy holding a newborn with a pink ribbon around her head. A piece of paper taped to the back of the chair said “I FINALLY HAVE A SISTER!” Older sister carefully held the bottle so the younger sister could nurse.

The normally stony prosecutor put the picture back on Liv’s desk. Looking up at the ceiling, he blinked a few times before turning his attention back to the one-way glass. He and Rita would “consult” later, he decided before flipping the volume knob.

 

“She freely admits this was foolish,” Rita began, patting Jessica’s hand. “But my client isn’t a legal expert. She’s heard of ‘double jeopardy’ and was under the impression that Mister Seeger couldn’t be tried again. Any information she thought this man had would be used just for her own family’s consolation.”

“And when he told you to take this envelope to me?” Olivia asked, pointing at the now-encased evidence.

“Vindication? I-I don’t know.” She gestured toward the checks. “I don’t even know who Jason Crawford is. The guy I met introduced himself as Charles Martel, which has to be an alias because that’s the name of the famous leader of the Frankish and Burgundian armies that fought against the Umayyad Caliphate between Poitiers and Tours in 732.”

Both older women opened their mouths to object initially, but Olivia waved Rita away.

 

He smiled. Trust his well-read girlfriend to spot an alias that obscure.

 

“She can describe him to a sketch artist if you need her to,” Rita added.

“That might be helpful.” Drumming her fingers against the table for a second, she touched the check copy again. “And you’ve never even heard this name before?” When Jessica shook her head, Liv looked back down at the check. “What about the person that signed the check, a Jared Wood? Or the company, W & A Ventures?”

“Olivia, you know if I did, I’d tell you. But I don’t.” She stood up with an exasperated sigh and went to the door leading out into the squad room. “It’s getting late. Raf knows I’m off today and plan-less. I really don’t want to have to defend me being stupid if nothing comes of this.”

Liv opened her mouth to warn her friend, but shut it quickly.

Rafael caught his other half by the elbow the second she stepped out of the door. “I’m taking you ho--”  

“I’ll deal with _you_ in a minute.” Jess jerked her arm out of his grasp. Turning back toward her friend and erstwhile attorney, she glared at her friend. “I’ll remember this the next time you need a baby sitter.”

Rita covered her mouth with her hand and stifled a laugh until her colleague and her client were out of earshot. “I’ve only ever seen a judge silence him that fast, but even then, he ignores those commands sometimes. I’d ask her for advice for the next time I’m in court against him, but I don’t think I want to know.”

 

Rafael shut the door behind himself and Jessica as quietly as possible. He hung his coat on the rack and set his briefcase down. “Jess…”

She threw her purse, cell phone, and keys forcefully onto the sofa, causing The Dude and Demetrius to run almost in tandem toward the spare bedroom / Rafael’s closet / the tight home-office. “Go ahead!” she shouted. “Just go ahead and tell me how stupid I was! Tell me how I screwed up! You’ve wanted to since…”

“I’m not going to.”

“I saw that look in the cab, Rafael.”

“As a prosecutor, I should. I should shout at you. As…” He took her hand in his tentatively, unsure if she’d let him hold it. When she didn’t pull away, he bowed his head and kissed her knuckles. “As the man that loves you,” he whispered. “I can’t, and I won’t.”

Jess’s head whipped around so fast that she smacked herself in the eye with her own ponytail. “I’m sorry… I buy Deadpool string lights for _my_ side of the other bedroom / home office, and you flip out. I go meet with a stranger that gives me possible evidence in a criminal case, and you don’t have a damn thing to say?”

“It’s not that, and you know it.” Rafael pulled her down onto the sofa next to him, wincing when what he was moderately sure was a crochet hook poked him in the ass. “It’s usually my job to be impartial and make decisions based only on the facts. In this case, I can’t. There’s a reason Liv’s called O’Dwyer.”

“What?”

“I would have recused myself if she hadn’t called him. Professional ambition aside, O’Dwyer’s the best one to handle this. I’m too close to the case.” He scooted closer to her (glad to get the crochet hook out from under his right ass cheek) and drew her to his side. “I… You went to meet this man alone with no exit plan. I was worried.”

“If there’s a snowball’s chance that information, regardless of where it led, could bring any amount of closure… You know why I had to do what I did.”

“I know, _cariño_. I do. Mary might not be here anymore, but she has a lot of dedicated people in her corner. She always has. And now, those people have new evidence.”

 

* * *

 

Jessica’s father opened his front door at the sound of a knock four days later. Hopefully, this knock signaled the arrival of the final member of the motley crew assembled in his living room.

“Colonel Bell, I presume.” Shaking the hand offered to him, he stepped inside and untied his scarf. “A.D.A. Kenneth O’Dwyer.”

The retired Airman made the necessary introductions to his wife, three sons, and daughter (leaving out the two attorneys and one Lieutenant present). “Now that we’re all here…”

Olivia Benson, seated next to O’Dwyer, clasped her hands together in front of her. “I thought the name Jason Crawford sounded familiar to me, and it turns out I was right.” She gestured toward Jess. “Jason Crawford was the witness that said what happened between Mike and Mary was consensual. And W & A Ventures? The A stands for Ayinger, and it’s the startup that Mike got off the ground with his friend out of high school.”

Eileen Bell closed her eyes and leaned on her husband’s shoulder.

“My detectives spoke to Jared Wood first to confirm that the checks were legitimate. The partnership folded three years after it started, but he had all of the old business records as he did the books. He said the checks were written to Crawford for work he did on their website. He remembered the guy. There weren’t any attached invoices because Mike wanted to pay him under the table so he wouldn’t get taxed. He insisted on paying by check to avoid the bank reports that would be triggered by the dollar amount of the cash withdrawal…”

 

_“Jason Crawford?” Olivia questioned, walking into the crowded Apple Store toward a tall, thin twenty-something with red hair._

_“I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s a line…”_

_“Not for me there isn’t.” She produced her badge discreetly. “Lieutenant Olivia Benson. This is Detective Carisi. I recently received an envelope from you. Care to talk about it?”_

_After leading them into the break room and shutting the door, he sat on the corner of the table._

_“According to the man that signed those checks, Mike Ayinger wanted to pay you cash under the table. What kind of work did you do for W & A Associates?” _

_“I did some work redesigning their website.”_

_“Fifteen thousand dollars worth of web design?” Carisi injected. “That must’ve been a helluva website.”_

_“The better question is why you waited six years, met with the sister of a victim that accused your boss of rape, and told her to give these checks to me instead of giving them to me when we spoke then.”_

_“I didn’t know it was real until a few weeks ago.”_

_“You didn’t know it was_ real _? Not even when the police came to question you?”_

_Liv waved him off. She probably should have brought Fin for this one. After all, he was with SVU when this happened… “What changed your mind?”_

_“Look, back then I was a sophomore at Hudson and broke. I was living on grilled cheese and Ramen. Mike and I were in the frat together. I tutored him. One day, we were in the library. This girl comes over to talk to JMike. They go into one of the conference rooms for a few minutes. All I know is that one day, completely out of the blue, he calls me and tells me that the police are coming to talk to me. The girl that came up to him was his ex. She wanted him back. He gave her one last roll in the hay and said it was over. And then she accused him of rape.”_

_“When did he pay you?”_

_“The first payment was just after he was arrested. The second payment was before the trial. The third payment was wired into my account after I started my year abroad. I changed like, maybe three links on he and his partner’s website. I figured he was paying me back for all that tutoring. There’s no way that little work earns fifteen grand. He knew I wanted to study in Japan.”_

_She closed her eyes and opened them again slowly. “And where were you for the past five years?”_

_“I wound up transferring to the university there. I worked for Sony for two years after that. W-When I got back, the story was gone from the news. No one from the police called me again. I assumed it was just as Mike said -- that she’d made it up.”_

_“Until?”_

_“Until I saw something in the paper about that girl at Tribeca Academy being raped. Someone named Jessica Bell testified and talked about her sister. I looked up what happened with Mike and the trial. I-I threw up when I read that she’d killed herself.  I thought if I sent the check copies, you’d investigate again. They’d get closure.”_

_“You copied the checks. Why?”_

_“My dad said to when I started taking freelance gigs, just so there wouldn’t be a question that anyone paid.”_

 

“We’re charging Mike Ayinger with witness tampering and perjury tomorrow,” O’Dwyer began in a cautiously optimistic tone. “I’ve filed a motion in favor of him being charged with rape, too.”

The entire Bell clan and their other halves collectively perked up.

“On what grounds?” Rita chimed in, sitting a bit more forward herself. As soon as the question left her lips, she smiled. “The classic Jack McCoy ‘double jeopardy never attached because the defendant was never in jeopardy’ rule?”

“I can’t promise that it’ll work, but I wanted you to know that I was going to try.”

 

* * *

 

“Any particular reason Lieutenant Benson is with us today, Mister O’Dwyer?” the judge inquired over his reading glasses.

Putting his briefcase down, O’Dwyer sat down next to opposing counsel. “Lieutenant Benson was an integral part of the rape investigation six years ago, as well as the current investigation into witness tampering and perjury. The People feel that if you have any questions about the either investigation that pertains to your ruling, she should be here.”

“And your argument is that double jeopardy does not apply to this case?”

“Which is clearly ludicrous,” the expensive attorney Liv recognized from six years earlier offered as his opening volley.

“That is for me to decide.” The judge motioned toward O’Dwyer. “Your reasons please?”

“The People are entitled to one _fair_ bite at the proverbial apple, Your Honor. In this case, the defendant himself made a witness unavailable. Armed with the knowledge that the witness’s intent was to leave the country upon receiving enough money to do so, Mister Ayinger provided two checks and a wire transfer to help the witness accomplish that goal. The witness himself will attest to that fact.”

“Is this true, Lieutenant?”

“Yes.”

“Furthermore,” O’Dwyer continued “Double jeopardy only attaches if the defendant were in actual jeopardy. In this case, he was not.”

 

**£££££££**

 

Still on break from school, Jess sat cross-legged on the bathroom floor next to the toilet. Across town, a judge she didn’t know was listening to O’Dwyer argue that double jeopardy didn’t apply to The People versus Mike Ayinger. She was fighting back nausea.

“Hang on,” Rafael whispered into the phone before knocking on the door frame of the bathroom. “Jess, O’Dwyer’s on the phone. He wants to tell you himself.”

With one hand firmly clutching the standalone toilet paper holder, she took the phone from his hand. The other A.D.A. was a man of few words, but those words caused her hand the phone back, hang her head over the toilet, and empty the contents of her stomach.


	21. Chapter Twenty

**** “This isn’t going to be easy,” O’Dwyer began as he laid the papers on his desk.

“I know.” Olivia sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. 

“And you’re sure the family can handle it, go through it all again?”

“Yes,” she stated firmly. “They’re a strong bunch. They’ve also got Calhoun, Barba, and us in their corner.”

“So let’s not let them down. Since the original trial never happened as far as the court’s concerned, I’m going to need all of the original witnesses plus some new ones.” Opening a folder, he rifled through the papers inside until he found the original witness list for the prosecution. “If I understand this, the mom testified and sis was on the list.”

“They know the drill. Jess testified in one of Barba’s cases…”

“Oh I know.” He laughed softly. “I have never heard that many people utter some variant of ‘holy shit’ in my life.”

“Aside from the office gossip…”

“Do I have anyone on this list to worry about?”

“Mike Ayinger and Jason Crawford. Other than that, no.”

He dropped the file and looked across the desk at Benson. “It’s going to be me questioning her, not Barba.”

“Believe me, she is aware of that. It’s not a factor. Casey Novak prepped her to testify the first time around. And Eileen isn’t going to waiver. We had to work to tone her down in witness prep.”

“I want you to be here with her when I prep her,” O’Dwyer stated before taking another sip of coffee. “I’m a new face, but she trusts you. Because the daughter in question isn’t here this time around, I want your backup when I tell her we have to change tack from last time.”

“Anything you need for this one, Counselor.”

* * *

Jess ruffled Noah’s thick hair and pushed herself off the rug next to him once she was sure that he was engrossed in the cartoon on her friend’s iPad. “Enough with the runaround, Liv. Who’s this mystery guy you’ve been seeing? Duck me again, and I’ll get it out of Noah. He knows who his favorite aunt is.”

“I know him from work,” the older woman began as she pulled the cork from the merlot bottle and poured two glasses. 

“Okay… You know a lot of guys from work. Fin, Carisi, Dodds, Dodds Junior, Nick, Elliott…”

“None of them.”

“Well I’d hope you wouldn’t dip into the pool of guys you see every day,” she chided, taking one of the glasses and lifting it to her lips. 

Olivia Benson expected the news that she was seeing I.A.B.’s Ed Tucker to be met with some pushback from her friend. She anticipated an “I’m sorry, who the fuck” or something similar. What she didn’t expect was to be wearing the sip of wine that Jessica Bell had just taken. 

“Ed  _ Tucker? _ ” she questioned upon regaining her voice after a coughing fit. “You’ve done everything but yell ‘a pox on your house’ about that guy! You’ve told me that you’ve been at odds for the better part of seventeen years with him! You’ve threatened to throat punch him!”

“It’s weird, but we’ve come to an understanding…”

“Liv…the last time you got really pissed at this man, the two of us went through almost four bottles of wine. You did all of the talking. The lady at Dunkin’ Donuts the next morning was legally required to warn me of the cardiac risks involved in putting three Turbo Shots in  _ each _ of my  _ two _ large iced coffees.” She tossed her head back and forth a few times. “In hindsight, maybe that’s why you set me up with a caffeine addict.”

“I didn’t realize you had  _ six _ Turbo Shots,” Benson defended as she grabbed a paper towel and blotted away at the burgeoning maroon stain on her blouse. “Lord knows if I’d introduced you to Rafael after that, I’d have my…”  _ Shit.... _

“Your what?”

“...my butt in a sling,” she lied, taking a hefty drink from her own glass. “That was a bad week. He would never have agreed to that.”

“You’re lying about some aspect of that, because I know what your ‘oh shit I opened my mouth too far’ face looks like. I want to know but don’t at the same time.” Plopping down onto her friend’s dark sofa, she wiped imaginary dirt from under her lower lashes. 

“You disapprove.”

“I-I’m looking for a reason to  _ approve _ .” Jess set her glass aside and looked down at the floor. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you...” she began slowly once she could look into her friend’s eyes again. “I don’t know. If I did, I was drunk as shit at the time. I was mildly disappointed when they announced that they’d cast Wonder Woman...and it wasn’t you. You’re my friend and my hero. I’m looking for a reason that Captain America goes on a date with The Red Skull.”

“It hasn’t been the easiest adjustment,” Olivia admitted reluctantly. “I’m not sure if I could put it in terms that you wouldn’t immediately get and pick apart in the minutiae because you’re an English teacher.”

“I’m just going to take that as a compliment.”

“I...I’m not sure how I’m anyone’s hero, let alone yours. And I’m going to need another glass before you start explaining how I’m Captain America.”

“Oh  _ please _ ,” she sassed. Standing up, she followed Liv back to her kitchen. “All you have to do is replace ‘bullies’ with ‘sex offenders’ in the line ‘I don’t like bullies. I don’t care where they’re from’.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“‘How can I when you’re taking all the stupid with you?’”

She rolled her eyes when she recognized the movie line, thankful her relationship was temporarily out of the hot seat. “I was barely gone long enough for you to watch the movie in its entirety, but it was just long enough for you to get my son obsessed with a talking raccoon and a tree that can only say three words.”

“ _ You _ came to  _ me _ last minute. It’s not my fault Noah latched onto my stuffed Rocket Raccoon.” Once a new glass of wine was in her hand, she grinned. “We started on  Batman: The Animated Series last week.”

“He doesn’t have a prayer of being cool, does he?”

“If he hangs around with his Uncle Fin or Aunt Amanda, maybe. Uncle Sonny, Uncle Raf, or Aunt Jess...god no.”

“Listen, about Tucker…”

“My lips are sealed.” Jess laced her fingers together and pushed outwards to crack her knuckles. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

* * *

 

Liv dropped her glasses onto her desk after Barba shut her office door behind him. “You’re here. Good. Maybe we can get somewhere. Jameson’s attorney is in there with him. He asked the name of the A.D.A. I was calling. Believe it or not, he seemed genuinely pleased when I said your name.”

“I don’t often inspire pleasure among defense attorneys. Who is…” He froze at the sight of opposing counsel through the one-way glass. 

She stood up from her chair and slowly approached her friend. “Rafael?”

“‘Of all of the gin joints in all the towns in all the world’...” Squeezing his eyes shut after quoting  _ Casablanca _ , Barba shook his head. “Robert Charles Lancaster.”

“I-I don’t follow.”

“He was my mentor at Harvard, Liv. I wouldn’t be here without him.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“Not a clue. I’m sure I’m about to find out.” 

She put a hand on his shoulder just as he was about to turn the doorknob to go into the interrogation room. “In there, he’s opposing counsel. He isn’t your mentor. He knows what he taught you…”

“And he’ll be the first one to use it against me.” He cocked an eyebrow and took the offered file from his colleague. “I’m not sure what to make of both you and Jess turning into master trial strategists and clairvoyants all of a sudden. But thanks for your concern.” 

“DNA’s a match.” When he finally entered the room, she flipped the speaker so she could hear the conversation. 

“Senator Weaver,” the older man with white hair began with a sly grin. “In a fortuitous bit of luck, the Assistant District Attorney on your case is a former student of mine at Harvard.  _ Mister  _ Barba has nothing.”

“Your client wouldn’t be here if the N.Y.P.D. didn’t have something,  _ Mister _ Lancaster. After all, if they had nothing, the judge wouldn’t have signed the warrants.” He opened the folder and slid it across the table to his mentor. “The Senator’s DNA was just found on  _ and _ in the victim. He’s under arrest.”

 

**£££££££**

 

Rafael Barba sank down in his office chair and knocked back two Advil with a swig of coffee after arraignment. His office door opened. Someone spoke to him. Words were exchanged, but his headache was too acute for his brain to process what happened. “Liv, nothing that you just said actually registered,” he whispered. “Lancaster argued that not only were Weaver and the victim having an affair, Weaver’s wife knew about it. According to the defense, this entire prosecution is an extortion attempt.”

“So we keep digging.” Olivia raised an eyebrow and traced her finger around the rim of her to-go coffee cup. “Why do you look like you’d rather die than…”

“...go to Long Island for dinner at Jessica’s parents’ house?” he interrupted, rubbing at his eyes. “This case combined with the new developments in Mary’s?”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Can I bring you with me to swear to that?” He moaned she shook her head in response. 

“I’ll be decidedly on the island of Manhattan at the time.” She nudged his arm with her hand. “Besides, I’m still investigating those new developments. I wouldn’t be much on dinner conversation if every other sentence is me saying ‘I can’t talk about it’.”

 

After Jess and her mom were fussing with the dishes and leftovers out of earshot, her father swirled the remaining scotch around in his glass. “I’ve been told you’re on the Senator Weaver case.” When the younger man began to protest, the retired Airman waved him off. “It’s an ongoing case, and you can’t talk about it. I know. I don’t want details.”

“S-Sir?”

“Roger, for the millionth time.”

Rafael let out a long, slow breath. “Roger, with all due respect, what  _ do _ you want?”

“To give you a bit of advice. I have it on the most reliable of sources that Weaver’s defense attorney is your old mentor.” He paused and laughed when his daughter’s other half sputtered. “I’d never presume to say something like ‘I know what you’re going through’ or any other platitudes in this situation. The entirety of my legal knowledge comes from  _ The Practice _ ,  _ Boston Legal _ ,  _ Twin Peaks _ , and that one movie where Reese Witherspoon is carrying around a damn chihuahua.”

“I believe it’s called  _ Legally Blonde _ ,” he added once he was confident he wouldn’t burst out laughing. 

The Colonel snapped his fingers and pointed. “That’s the one. Between my wife, Mary, television syndication, and  _ your _ girlfriend… I could deal with the kids obsessing over  _ Batman: The Animated Series _ . I read those comics growing up. If you ever have kids, they’ll want to watch  _ something _ over and over.” He paused to laugh. “And you’ll understand why I instinctively reach for a drink when I hear ‘Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people just don’t shoot their husbands. They just don’t.’.”

Rafael lost his composure finally and let out a bark of laughter at the sound of the seasoned Colonel in the United States Air Force that’d served in the Gulf War, Bosnia, Mogadishu, and retired during the War on Terror doing his best Elle Woods impersonation. 

“All that to say that I can caution you on mentors. Be careful how you show ‘em what you learned.”

“It sounds like there’s a story behind that.” He took a sip of his own neat scotch and leaned back in the chair. 

“There is, oh believe me. Maybe I’ll tell you the whole tale one day. For now, just take a breath and treat him like any other Airm...defense attorney. Win the case. Don’t try too hard like I did.” He stood up and patted Rafael on the shoulder. “I cost the United States Air Force a  _ very _ expensive F-15.” Pouring a refill of scotch for himself as well as his houseguest, Roger scratched at the inner corner of his eye. 

 

**£££££££**

 

“The People on bail, Mister Barba?”

“The People of the State of New York drop all charges against Senator Weaver,” Rafael responded, producing a blueback from his briefcase and walking it to the judge. 

Robert Lancaster cocked an eyebrow and stood up. “Not to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything, Mister Barba, but why?”

“There is insufficient evidence to sustain the rape indictment, Mister Lancaster.” Handing the document to the judge, he turned around and bit back any trace of emotion. “With your permission,” he began, raising his left hand and gesturing for someone in the gallery to come to the well after Judge Barth nodded her assent.

“What is the meaning of this?” the previously smug Senator in his late fifties shouted.

One man in a suit flashed his F.B.I. badge while his partner closed cuffs around Weaver’s wrists. 

“The People wouldn’t want any local matter keeping Senator Weaver from the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s interests in their political corruption case against him...especially when our witness recanted and has turned federal evidence.” After Weaver was dragged from the courtroom in handcuffs into federal custody, he grabbed his case and followed Benson out into the hall.

“I don’t think I taught ‘when your case falls apart, call the Feds’ in my classes. I taught you…”

“That political corruption cases go the F.B.I. regardless. Ask  _ your client  _ about David in Albany and Sam in Buffalo, among others,” he retorted. “Maybe next time you’re in New York and not representing a shitbag we can have dinner. You’d love my girlfriend. She’s no Washington Monument out of tongue depressors, but she could hold her own with you.” 

Once the elevator doors closed and separated the two men, Rafael let out a breath he was well aware of holding.

He won.

And he didn’t cost the Air Force a plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no song for this chapter.
> 
> Many thanks to Tumblr user abrasivepersonaltendersoul. Barba's mentor in this chapter is based on Alan Alda... So visualise Alan Alda in "The West Wing" or "The Blacklist", but think of Hawkeye Pierce from "M*A*S*H". This might come up again later. 
> 
> Thanks for those that've stuck with me...and to my new people. Really, thanks everyone. This story isn't done yet, but is the second longest thing I've ever written. Google Docs says this is 109 pages. My longest is 244 pages.

**Author's Note:**

> The entire idea for this story is the result of too much alcohol and exchanging messages with another like-minded individual at three o'clock in the morning. Oh, and a post on Tumblr where someone complained of not enough Barba / OC (especially smut) didn't help. So, here we go. This story starts just before the scene in "Surrendering Noah" (s16e23) where Barba and Benson have coffee and goes from there. I lucked out and the new season dovetailed right into the end of season sixteen. Which means that this story will have spoilers for season seventeen. Not all chapters will, but I will mark the chapters that do. Since the prologue is so short, I'm uploading two chapters at once.
> 
> This is rated "explicit" for future content, just to let you know. I checked the warning for "rape / non-con" for this story just to be safe. There is mention of a specific rape (this being an SVU fic, of course there is), so I'd rather be safe than sorry.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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